


For the sake of daring.

by Drumthis



Category: Da Vinci's Demons
Genre: Continuation., M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:55:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 47,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24460165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drumthis/pseuds/Drumthis
Summary: Two months after the final battle against the Turks, Leo is still stunned, idle and gloomy in his studio. Zo decides to take steps and proposes action.
Relationships: Leonardo da Vinci/Girolamo Riario
Comments: 35
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please, note that English is not my mother language, so apologies for the errors and clumsiness. I hate the idea of insulting a language I love but the trial was too tempting.  
> You are very welcome to leave remarks about it in comments, in fact, I'd be thankful to you.

Chapter 1.

Leo’s unrest had been so obvious for the last weeks that even Zo could not pretend to ignore it. Many a time he had caught him in the act — or rather un-act ? — of glaring at the post that son of a bitch had been chained to, muttering curses, at best, but more often secret thoughts, sorrowful thoughts.

Sophia was the only one left to work here, at the studio, studying, tidying up or trying to. And then, Leo would care to look at her to shout out :  
« Could you please remain quiet for just a fucking minute ? For God’s sake, your unceasing back and forth hurry is making me dizzy and mad. »  
The girl then went and sit in some corner with a book or out for a walk.  
By now, she already knew all the streets and rows in Florence, poor soul.

« Go and look for him. Zo said, one evening, just two months after the battle. Nobody here will endure it much longer, Leo.  
Leo was startled out of his gloomy trance.  
— Endure what, Zo ? he grunted, staring almost fiercely.  
Zo stood steady, arms across his broad chest :  
— Endure your mourning that living scum. You think Sophia and I are deaf and blind ? You do nothing, eat like a bird… Just brooding won’t help either of you two. The bastard’s still alive, just go to Rome and learn more about his fate, I swear you’ll do us a favour there !  
Leo was staring at the void right behind Zo, right through his impressive frame:  
— I’m… I’m not even sure he’s still alive.  
— The gossip has it they have him locked up somewhere. They say the new pope wants him far away, yet close enough to consult him now and then… Rings a bell ?  
— Francesco’s cell !  
Zo nodded :  
— So ? What’s still keeping you here ? Scruples ? You never had any when it came to that son of a bitch. »

Leo knew the answer only too well but would never say it aloud.  
Shame, that’s what it was. He had lost people he loved - parents, friends and lovers, but was mourning a living ! A man who had opposite beliefs and ideas, who had killed many without even thinking twice about it, instinctively and in some cases even with satisfaction.  
What was wrong with himself ? What kind of unknown material was he made of ? Why did he need Riario ? Why did his absence make him wretched like this ?

« You are right. I’m going to Rome. I need to know, Zo, I’m sorry, he said, getting up then resting a hand on his friend’s forearm.  
— I know. I still don’t get it, but I know. And… Zo picked up his bag from the corner where he had let it fall… And I’m coming with you.  
— You hate the very sight of him ! Leo protested.  
— But I don’t hate you. What if the papal guard caught you ? And what if your prince charming was seized by one of his murderous fits when you!re alone with him ? Come, leave Sophia a message and let’s go ! »

Leo was ready in a minute and, his heart still bleeding a lot, Zo saw the old fever back in the moves , the half-smile and the green eyes.  
Back to the charming scoundrel ways and look then !  
He loved them better anyway than the “off“ mode.

***

From here, up the hill, the Vatican was copper red, ablaze with the light of the lazy evening sun, setting much too slowly to Leo’s taste.  
The painter in him was resting, not fully operational and failing to relish the sight. No time or thought for art now, only for the violent pulsation of daring.

They knew he could not enter the palace the same way he had used the first time, underwater. So, the plan was to give it a try the frontal way, with some kind of pass delivered by someone who would be on good terms with the new pontiff.

Leo had won the war against the Turks amidst the soldiers of the Holy Crusade, but was not at all confident this would be enough to be allowed into the Palace. So, they attempted to secure Giovanni Della Rovere's helpful intercession. He was now what his cousin had been, the Captain General , and was said to have no dislike of Riario so that if the man was aware of Leo’s past friendship with the Count, it would probably not harm their cause…

« May I ask what brings you to wish to meet the Holy Father, signor Da Vinci ? Giovanni asked.  
— Of course ! As you may — or may not — know, I am an engineer. Last time Sixtus invited me to take a look around the secret archives, he drew my attention to a wonderful piece, the skeleton of a dragon. See, I was rather in a hurry back then and did not look closely enough at the item. Yet, recently, it came to my mind that the frame of the beast might be a clue to the problem I’m confronted with right now…  
— Thinking of a canon of some sort ? the soldier asked, eagerly.  
— Indeed ! The French army’s at our door, I consider it wise to get prepared for other battles.  
— You’re damn right ! We’ll need all the war machinery we can get. He went and sit at a table of his quarters and started writing.  
— He’s quite another type than his hissing snake of a cousin, hey ? Zo whispered.  
— Less slender and refined, you mean ? Leo teased.  
— Less sneaky I meant, you fool !  
— Giro can indeed seem sneaky, the man said, as if part of the exchange… that is, if you fail to see the difference between sneakiness and strategy.  
— Oh, shit ! Zo murmured.  
— Zo and Riario were never on friendly terms, Leo explained, a bit uneasy.  
— But you were, said Giovanni, holding out the signed authorization. And if you get him out of his cell, I won’t be the one to blame or denounce you, he added with a grin.  
— Thank you, Captain, Leo smiled.  
— Be careful, though : the new pope has launched a crusade of another kind against heresy and deviant conduct, he might prove to be mistrustful. Yet, as I said, on the other hand we badly need arms so… here you go with half a chance to seduce, half to displease… I would recommend to wear more rigourous clothing, if you allow me," he concluded with a look up and down Zo’s usual colourful style.

They took leave, still wondering at how lucky they had been.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation between Riario and his companion... Leo and Zo meet with Innocent VIII

The man was looking at the color of the liquid mixture he was preparing : « Unlike your former enemy, I’m not giving you this to cure you, Riario, I hope you’re well aware. I’m just putting in the exact proportions it takes to prolong the effects of the Labyrinth’s magic water while making you sane enough to realize and relive each of your crimes.  
Riario got up, docile, to go and fetch the bowl :  
— So, you think I ignore them ?  
— You killed my brother, the man said between his teeth.  
— Dare to tell me this was painful to you. You wanted him dead yourself.  
— And to some extent, both my daughters, the man went on.  
— You disowned and betrayed Lucrezia with far more cruelty than I, a simple cousin, ever used against her. She lost her time, honour and love to rescue you… She was risking her own life on many occasions while you had no intention whatsoever to leave your prison… Which, to be honest, is of no importance to me. I am fully aware of the wrongs I did and have by now learnt to cope with remorse. My father’s death proved sufficient to put a balm on all wounds.  
— Yet, some nights I hear you mutter and even sob like a child. This doesn’t sound like any kind of resurrection to me. Ha ! You didn’t know, hey ? But, yes, I can hear you, pitiful, pathetic creature that you are. Once so powerful, feared and even admired by some, and now this !  
He held out the bowl, Riario took it :  
— And pray, in what manner are you better off ? I’m curious to learn from your wise insightful self.  
— My time will come.  
— Yes, and you’ll go and spoil it like you did lately. I remember how proud you were of your victories at our go games, how much you relied on your discernment. Yet, you failed. Brilliantly so. Your Sons Of Mithras were in no manner better allies than The Enemies Of Man. after all, right ? Riario drank to the last drop in the cup, gave it back through the bars of their twin cells, turned his back to him, and added : and now, I want some sleep, dear uncle, so go to hell in the meantime and give my regards to your family there. » 

Yes, he wanted to be aware and conscious. His former self was gaining a bit more ground every day, he was at peace with the killing of both his parents and just wanted to be sure that, thanks to Francesco’s treatment, the other, the wild one, would soon if not die, at least obey each and every order the « Worm », as he once called him, would give.  
He could see plainly, acutely, exactly what he longed to be : still a weapon, because such was his true nature, but a weapon held by his own hand and guided only by his own free will.  
Nobody would ever decide of his future options.  
The new pope did not want him dead, he wanted him under control. Well, his body might be, but for the very first time in his life, his mind was free.

In truth, this could have felt like bliss, if only he had been back in the New World, chasing some relics together with Leonardo.

***

There had to be some unknown rule somewhere saying that popes must be stern, cold and deprived of any sense for humour.

Although this one was physically different from the late Sixtus, he had the same look on his face, and used the same tone of voice, harsh and peremptory.  
They pretended God made men in his image well, this was proof either that the Holy Father was no man at all, or that God had been quite a shitty person indeed.

Such were Leo’s thoughts as he kissed the papal ring. For a brief moment, he also remembered a scene, an image of a disappointed Girolamo on witnessing his submissive gesture. « The Da Vinci I knew… »  
Yes. We’ve changed in oh, so many ways, my friend ! Leo was thinking while expressing his desire to have another closer look at the dragon skeleton.

This morning, he had sketched some abominable war machine, in order to convince Innocent VIII that the dragon frame was essential to its achievement.  
« I am very much surprised that my predecessor let you into the very sacred vault of the Secret Archives, the pope said, barely looking at the design.  
— Oh, but he did ! He did so to show me the remaining page of the Book of Leaves. He even suggested that I should stay and work for him…. only, back then, I had other engagements.  
— With Florence. How do you feel about your… Magnifico, right now, I wonder.  
— We have taken very different paths. If it weren’t for my friendship with his wife, he’d have had me banished from the State by now.  
— So, why do you stay ?  
— I have dear memories, intimately tied to the city. I do not wish to go.  
— Back to our subject… What else did you notice in the Secret Archives ? the pope said, walking past them and looking them up and down as if they were some exotic species.  
Leonardo named King Arthur’s sword, Excalibur, along other relics but avoided mentioning the sacred spear he had broken in battle against a guard… The man had nearly broken his back, he reminded vividly.

This seemed to be convincing enough to the Holy Father. He called a man and allowed him to show Leo and Zo around the precious chambers.

Now came the easy part of their enterprise. The man proved to be no warrior, not even watchful and the two guards who accompanied them were easy to get rid of for men like Zo and Leo. Otranto and the war after that had increased the strength of these two already highly gifted swordsmen.  
Then, through the long underground passages to the Castle Sant’Angelo.  
Memory had never failed Leo, he knew the way as well as if he had followed it only the day before. Then, it was up to the cells…

« I hope you were right in thinkng they keep him in Francesco’s old cell, he said, running up the staircase.  
— It would seem logical to me, wouldn’t it ? After all, you don’t throw a man into a dungeon when you need some help from him… Only picture the scene, Leo — he imitated the pope’s icy voice : « Count, I need to know : where should I get my civil suits from ? I confess I always envied you your good tastes in that matter. »  
— Now you’re crediting the pope with your ow preoccupation, Zo… My theory is that you hated Riario at first sight for that sole very stupid reason, Leo teased.  
— Yeah right ! What other fault could anyone find in him, after all, the poor misunderstood rascal ! »

Leo laughed at this but was soon brought back to now : they had reached the corridor leading to the chambers they wanted in. Two other guards had to be defeated. He signed to Zo, right behind him, raised one, two, three fingers…


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo and Zo find Riario... only, he's not quite the man he used to be.

Leo burst into the room : « Girolamo ?  
That voice ! Girolamo got up in no time :  
— Leo ? » He was squinting his eyes, not sure this was not part of a dream.  
But no, Leo was there, so nervous that the key missed its aim at first, as he was looking at him with those eager emerald eyes, the broad, broad smile and crinkled nose… So, he did love him a bit, after all !  
« How sweet ! » Francesco mocked.  
He did not care. He rushed out of the cell, caught hold of the painter, one hand in his back, the other at the back of his neck and kissed him. A deep, passionate, feverish kiss.

« Wow ! » Zo breathed out, nailed to the paved floor. Was this the same man, that prick full of cunning and menace, but cold as fish on marble ?  
And Leo ! Clinging to the man, much too obviously wanting more of it !  
« Are you all right ? the artist asked, once their breaths were out.  
— I am now !  
— Are you… Are you really… I mean, this was not quite like you, you know !  
— I am myself at last ! Free in this prison.  
Leo couldn't stop staring, in awe.  
— Are you physically fit ?  
— Do you want another try at how fit I am, Artista ?  
Leo could not believe it :  
— La… Later. More, yes ! Often. But definitely later, Rio.  
Zo rolled his eyes. “Rio“ ! What a ridiculous surname ! He’d have to step in :  
— Hey, guys, sorry to interrupt anything, but we must get out of here real soon, so …  
— Yes ! Leo remembered. Girolamo, take off your shirt and pants and…  
The Count laughed at this but said nothing. Leo joined in :  
— OK, don’t get me wrong… it’s just that you’ll have to put on the guard’s uniform and take the lead. Do you know of a safe shortcut around here ?  
— Yes. The one leading to the Tiber, where they get rid of the prisoners they tortured to death accidentally.  
— How can you torture to death “accidentally“ ? Zo sneered at him.  
— Not everyone has the same physical endurance, see, if you miss the signs, some prisoners don’t resist the treatment and pass away.  
— We’re in the realm of your expertise here, aren’t we ?  
Riario was ready. He smiled, unashamed :  
— We are indeed.  
— Are you going to leave me here ? Francesco exclaimed.  
— We are. I gave you the key to your freedom once, but you refused it… Enjoy your stay… Holy Father ! Leo said with a bow.  
Della Rovere got mad :  
— Spongy knotty-pated cock suckers ! Infectious gudgeons ! Roguish pieces of… »  
The rest got lost as they were going down the steep stone stairs. 

As they reached the end, into another passageway, three guards were coming out of a room. Girolamo froze and, one finger across his lips, raised his right hand in warning, then gestured for his two companions to go and walk in front of him. They came across the three guards unnoticed, the men were laughing at some joke and did not pay attention.  
However, as they were passing by another chamber, a tall man bumped into them and said in a loud, imperious voice : « Ah ! Guard ! I see you’ve caught some intruders ! What do you intend to do of those two worthless souls ?  
— Sir, drowning those rascals in the Tiber would seem the best solution, Rio stated, half smiling.  
— I’m sure there’s another way, though : there’s a bark waiting for me, right ahead, you should use it instead and navigate downstream for a while. When you’re far enough, just land and do whatever you want of your catch. I guess you must have some pass signed by me, the boatman will make no trouble. He came closer, patted Girolamo’s shoulder and whispered : I will hold back the hunters the best I can, but flee, Giro, as soon and far as you can.  
— Thank you, cousin, Girolamo nodded with another smile.  
— Come on ! Off you go then ! » Giovanni shouted.  
The bark was close. They jumped aboard and kept playing their parts of guard and prisoners until the boatman had left them on a riverbank a couple of miles away from the Holy City.

***

It was a moonless night, they could not walk any further. So they crouched behind the ruins of some boat, waiting for the first morning light.  
« Take my jacket, Da Peretola, Riario said, holding out the piece of uniform, you are half naked and we wear thick shirts… Come on, you won’t have to like me any better, I’m not buying off your sympathy, here, we just don’t want you ill.  
— Thank you, Your Grace, Zo grinned, accepting the jacket… So, where do we go from here ?  
— As far as I’m concerned, far, far away from here, the Count said, I’ve been thinking of leaving Italy.  
— Where to ? Leo asked.  
— England, the New World… anywhere where I can start anew and learn and make something, anything, different of my life… Then, heart beating, in a lower voice : would you care to come with me, Artista ?  
Leo’s eyes moistened, blood pounding in his ears :  
— I’m not leaving you, Girolamo, I’ve had enough of it for three months now.  
— You forget Sophia ! Zo reminded him.  
— Who’s Sophia ?  
Zo laughed softly, mockingly :  
— I can hear your heartbeat from here, Count ! Don’t go fussing though, she’s not a new mistress.  
— She’s my sister. Half-sister, Leo explained.  
— Oh ! I didn’t know…  
— Neither did I. We met six months ago : same mother, different fathers… She’s Al-Rahim’s daughter.  
— God ! What a twist of fate ! So, fetch Sophia we shall…. Tommaso… anything retaining you in Italy ?  
— Are you being sweet again ? What on earth did they feed you at the Vatican ?  
— Just answer. I’m just not leaving Leo’s family behind if they wish to be part of it, that’s all.  
— No. If Leo leaves, I cannot think of a reason why I’d stay. Besides, I’ve grown fond of Sophia as well, we get along well… So, there’s your answer.  
— Good ! He looked around them for a while and took a deep breath : thank you. Just imagine my being here, free and able to feel the cold and damp of the night on my skin and to breathe the fresh air ! Yes, thank you. Both of you. »  
He looked at them in turn and didn’t grudge Zo his frown. The man had been and would still be harmed by him, that it be unintentionally didn’t soothe the pain he was feeling because of him. He had a right to hate him for loving Leo and, as things were, for being loved by him.  
He took more time to ponder and savour this :  
Being loved by him !

***

Sophia was sobbing, in renewed mourning of her dear Lucrezia, so soon forgotten !  
How dared he !  
Then, Zo saw her face change into a hard expression. She got up, arms straight, hands locked into fists, muttering under her breath, on and on : « How can he ? »  
« Listen… he ventured.  
— No. Wait. I’m not ready for soothing words. I’d rather hit you with the first thing catching my eye.  
— He’s your brother, he insisted, at least, listen to what I have to say ! You know very well I cannot be happy about it either, but…  
— But nothing ! He had no right to cheat on her.  
She was sweating and rolled up the sleeves of her blouse, pacing to and fro.  
He couldn’t but wait for the storm to pass.  
After a while, she stopped abruptly and gave a look of hatred at the post Leo had been mentally chained to for the last two months :  
— Very well. I’ll go. But please, be convincing when you tell me about it, because all I’m feeling now is a fierce urge to kill the man with my own hands.  
— Seems familiar. I know that feeling well, believe me, Zo said, with a bitter grin. That’s why you must trust me when I’ll explain it all to you.»

Would she ? He himself was not quite sure he could believe he was about to be those two bastards’ defender.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Past, present, a little bit of everything but some strong stuff. (I hope)

The landlady had given them a blanket to spread on the straw stack, for fear that the « leaner gentleman », with a more delicate skin, might develop some irritation due to the wisps.  
Riario had tightened his lips in his usual manner to prevent a burst of laughter and thanked her with his most seducing look.

So here they were, completely naked in the open very fresh air, watching the sun set with the whole universe for a room. Wide, so wide this world ! Endless and forever out of grasp.  
Leo was caressing Girolamo’s shoulder : « And how is your delicate skin reacting to the ferocious wisps of straw, my sweet prince ? he smiled.  
The Count laughed and turned onto his right side to face him :  
— If only she knew !  
Leo gazed deep in the astounding golden shade of his eyes :  
— If only I had known !  
— You always thought I’d kill you if you dared suggest anything like this, didn’t you ? I mean desire and physical love.  
— Maybe not kill me, but resent it and forsake me. You were so adamant in matters of sins and decency !  
— I was a man of God and you failed to see the soldier behind this… That was my design back then, I must admit. I had to keep myself away from temptation… Somehow, you were a serpent too, see ? He smiled.  
— Tell me about the soldier. What does he have to do with love and sex ?  
— In my case, pretty much everything.  
— I want to know, Rio. Who taught you ?  
— “Rio“, I love that, Artista.  
He kissed Leo’s lips and eyelids, got lost in his kissing.  
Leo had to repeat :  
— How did the fact of being a soldier bring you to condone such heresy ?  
— Experience… See, Leo, try to picture the life of soldiers : months, sometimes even years close to one another, sharing the same lodgings, the same meals — or absence of them for that matter, the same weather conditions — burning heat or biting cold; laughing at the same rough jokes because there’s not much else to get merry about, confiding in each-other about past, family, fears… and on top of this all, being to one another on the field the support, maybe even the saviour one hopes for.  
— Trust and reliability, brotherhood and care… pure empathy.  
— When a guy, out there on the field, is surrounded by wounded or dying men and horses and feels so much despair that he’s just like a child again, you put your arms around him and offer him solace. It doesn’t necessarily lead to more than that, far from it, but in my case it did. To feel that another human being can be so close, to know they sincerely care is nothing else but love, Leo. Less passionate and less intimately woven into heart and flesh than ours, but love nevertheless.  
Leo swallowed a lump. He knew he couldn’t have expressed it better. His imagination had brought those soldiers to his mind’s eyes, neat and real, almost concrete :  
— I’m thankful there was a friend like that for you back then.  
— I owe him my life.  
— Is he…  
— He died ten years ago, in battle, the way he wanted it, amongst his only friends.  
— You loved him.  
— Yes, I sincerely did. But not the way I love you.  
— Why is it so ? Do you have any clue ? I mean, we were not destined to fall in love with each other, so why is it so strong ?  
— I believe it’s because our feelings are not due to circumstances. By Jove ! they fought their way AGAINST all circumstances, pushing walls and breaking condemned doors… slow, but steady, against all odds.  
— Yes ! »  
They kissed and made love again, in this chilly late December evening, not caring about the cold, wanting to feel it.  
Everything that could remind them they were alive.

***

Sophia was exhausted, cold, extremely disappointed and not the least eager to meet again with her brother. Much less so to make the acquaintance of Riario.  
The night seemed to second this, it was damp, silent, hollow and gruesome like a bottomless mineshaft.  
They had been riding for hours on end, because Zo still wouldn’t be at peace with the idea of Leo being left alone more than four days with the “Monster of Italy“.  
Reason told him there would be no harm done and that the Count’s feelings seemed genuine enough, but now and then, reason dropped the reins and the horse of anguish would run free and wild.  
At last, they reached the barn. Sophia grumbled as she went splash in mud with her new boots.  
They tied their horses to the nearest tree and went in without a word. Zo had no memory of so long a silence in his entire life. His throat was sore from the abominable silence spree.  
There was a hiss and sizzle of drawn blades.  
« It’s all right, Count, it is us !  
Sizzle and hiss of sheathed arms.  
— Masini ! How did you know it was me ? Riario murmured with a quiet amusement.  
— I know your way by now — the fierce draw and whirl… Zo muttered.  
Then, the Count lit a candle and asked :  
— Did you have anything to eat ? We’ve got bread and apples…  
Sophia could not believe the two of them were having that casual conversation. She was feeling like a marble statue, frozen, and her stare was fixed upon the poorly lit angular face of the man in front of her.  
— Any wine ? Zo asked, I’m thirsty of not talking at all.  
— You ? Not talking ? Man, you must have found your master ! There’s ale, plenty of it actually, as well as some cider… Say, are you going to be polite and introduce us ?  
— Oh, yes ! Sorry ! Sophia, meet Count Girolamo Riario… Count, this is Sophia Lippi.  
He bowed, she nodded — very unwillingly he noticed.  
— Should I wake Leo up ?  
— Only if you long for some growling and cursing, Zo smiled.  
— Yes, I know ! … Sophia ?  
— No. I’m in no hurry to see him, she said curtly.  
Riario looked at Zo, who raised his eyebrows and went and sit down on the floor, resting his back against what must have been a small cart.  
— So… If you do not need me, I’m going back to sleep, Girolamo said.  
— Wait a minute, the girl objected : aren’t you going to tell me more than this ?  
He turned around to face her :  
— But of course, if you wish… What would you like me to tell you, young lady ?  
— Don’t young-lady me !  
— Well, I thought you would not approve of my using your first name, but I see no objection…  
— Just don’t call me anything, that’ll be fine with me.  
— Understood… So… ? Questions ?  
Zo was enjoying the scene but then considered what Leo would think of it if he woke up, so he stepped in, resorting to his most unbending tone :  
— Look, Sophia, this is not the right time for this. I suggest you wait until morning before opening fire. You’re exhausted and nervous and, with the exception of our Prince of Frost here, we all are. Have something to eat and find yourself a good spot to sleep, OK ?  
She gave in and picked a piece of bread to go and sulk as far away from them as she could.  
— Prepare yourself for some adversity, Riario, Zo warned : she’s determined to hate you.  
— Oh, that’s fine with me : I wouldn’t want my life to be unrecognizable to myself. » he said with a wink.

***

Leo awoke and stood up with a feeling of power and excitement he had not experienced for a very long time. Maybe since the day Nico had flown his machine !  
Back in the days when he was endeavouring to cure Girolamo from the Labyrinth poisoning, he felt passionate about the task and stimulated by the challenge, but had never felt as confident as he was now.  
Now, he was strong, he was two in one.

When he joined his companions, the landlady was there with her daily treats of fresh bread, jam, fruit and even butter… “for the leaner gentleman“.  
Zo protested : « Why him ? He’s strong like a bull !  
But she shrugged her shoulders and glared at him in disapproval :  
— You, in any case, are fat enough as it is !   
On which Zo frowned and pinched his abdomen and stomach in search of any unattractive fat pad.  
— The lady has something for Rio, Leo soothed once the woman had left, I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you.  
— I don’t think I’ll be coming with you, Sophia then declared, out of nowhere.  
— Ah good morning sister ! Where were you hiding ? Leo said, joyful, ignoring the provocative hint.  
— I was not hiding, just thinking this all over… You and… him. How could you ? She got up from behind a stack of straw. How could you forget her so soon ?  
— I haven’t and will never forget Lucrezia. Why would you think such a thing ?  
— It’s quite obvious : you cannot pretend you loved someone, then go and fuck a guy not even three months after they died !  
— Girolamo and I don’t simply “fuck“, as you so elegantly put it. We’ve been in love for a long time, with no right to even admit it… I loved Lucrezia, but this… this between him and me is deeper, on quite another level. I’m sorry, Sofia, I can bear Lucrezia being out of my life, whereas I cannot live without him.  
She stamped her foot in frustration :  
— You betrayed her and are betraying her now, after she gave her life for you ! Shame on you, Leonardo !

The girl needed someone to hate. It shouldn’t be, must not be Leo !

— You’ve made yourself an inaccurate portrait of Lucrezia, young lady, she was not the angel you seem to recall, Riario said in a quiet, raucous voice.  
— You hated her, your point of view has no relevance here ! she cut.  
— I had no dislike of her at first, you know. She was the only cousin I knew, back then, I rather tended to see her as a possible ally… Then, on two occasions, I even went so far as to offer her apologies for a crime I had not committed, she spat in my face both times, literally, then figuratively. He took an apple and started peeling it : she was as hard as sneaky… I saw it and used it, yes, feeling no remorse. I knew she would cheat on everyone to achieve her father’s goals. She nearly sent Leo to his death to please her father.  
— You did the same for yours, Zo remarked.  
— No… Can you name one single time I tried to have you believe I was on your side, Zo ? I was sharp, obvious. My allegiances were unmistakable. I never sneaked into anyone’s bed to have them think otherwise.  
— She was a woman, Sofia objected, she was…  
— Weaker ? Is that what you were going to say ? Was she weak when she stabbed Giuliano de’ Medici or Gentile Becchi ? Was she, when she strangled Bayezid or climbed onto that roof, wounded, to lodge your brother’s device where it belonged ? No, she couldn’t allege weakness in her own defense… ignorance and self-deception, yes, not weakness. I was dispiteous to her, I’ll give you that, but this makes no saint of her, don’t ever go and think that… Don’t repudiate your brother in her name, she herself would probably deplore it. She was all the things I’ve just said, but I’m sure she was sorry for it and would not want Leo to pay such a price.  
She was still disappointed, profoundly so, but there was no fierceness any longer in the look she gave Leo.  
— I will never like you, though, she told the Count, looking him right in the face.  
— I can live with that.   
She went out for a walk and seeming to have dropped the idea of leaving.  
— I can see what you did, Zo said, very well done, Your Highness !  
— Thank you. I just know some tricks and use them if necessary, he smiled.   
— I love you, Count. » Leo smiled.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forli. The fortress is not a welcoming place at first sight, but our friends have to stay there for a while : traveling demands some money and equipment and Riario means to find it here...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, please, if you spot language errors, leave a comment and I'll edit very willingly.

Three days later, they reached Forli. The Rocca del Ravaldino was not a welcoming castle, it was a fortress, made for warriors and their troops, austere and a bit glum.

Was it wise to come here, to Riario’s property ? Probably not. By now, the news of his escape must have spread on a wide scale, but he had troops here and they could save them time in case of attack.  
They needed to stay as long as they could, since on one hand, crossing the Alps now, in January, would be unreasonable at the least , and on the other hand the Count needed some money or items of monetary value to finance the rest of the journey.

An aged man opened the huge carved oak door just minutes after the guards had knocked. He was short, skinny and pale, but affable. The return of the master seemed to be good news to him. He was smiling the widest smile he could manage :  
« I knew you would come nevertheless, Girolamo.  
— So, the news has reached Forli ?  
Girolamo was removing his gloves and the heavy cloak he had been given by the landlady of the farm in Arezzo.  
— It has, Milord, but I took immediate action and hired new young men to join the troops. They are all ready, fit and well fed !  
— Excellent job, as always, Ercole ! The count put a hand on his shoulder : let me introduce you to my companions… friends, this is Ercole Marchesi, an old friend of mine… How long have we known each-other, Cole ?  
— I should say twenty-five years… You were nine or ten I believe.  
— Right ! Ercole was a teacher at the San Cosimo monastery… Ercole, this is Leonardo da Vinci, Tommaso Masini, but I think he prefers Zoroaster da Peretola, don’t you, Zo ? Zo nodded. And the young lady is Sophia, Leonardo’s sister.  
The old man bowed :  
— Thank you for rescuing Girolamo, signori, I’m most thankful for this !  
— So, Ercole, we’ll need three rooms close to mine… can you see to this with Beata and Zita ?  
— Of course… But wouldn’t you like something to drink and eat first ?  
— This would be appreciated… Oh, and please, pass the word : Leonardo here never eats any meat or fish.  
— There will be two of us then. » the man smiled at Leo.  
He left and Girolamo lead them though the icy and nude stone hall to a more comfortable place, arranged as a parlour, library and dining-room.  
Here were secular tapestries on the walls, heavy carpets and a large fireplace holding what looked like a whole trunk, burning quietly and spreading comforting warmth all around the room.  
« They were waiting for you, Leo remarked.  
— There’s always some fire. The place is rather damp, which would spoil the tapestries and rugs. Living alone, I don’t need any other room than this when I stay here, so It serves all purposes : study, meals and conversations. I sometimes even sleep over there, by the fire.  
Leo blushed a bit on seeing his sister drag a refined chair closer to the bench she was sitting on and cross her mudded boots upon the red velvet chair-seat. Girolamo and Zo also saw this but made no comment.  
— No paintings ? Leo inquired.  
— No… This place was taken from the Ordelaffis to be given to me and as you know, I have no ancestors I’d want to show off.  
— Has it not been taken away from you yet ? Zo wondered. I thought this was usual practice.  
— It is. Maybe Innocent VIII is still undecided about whom he’s going to hand it over to ? Anyway, let’s prepare for a short-term assault and get ready for our travel.  
— Have you ever traveled that far, Count ? Zo asked.  
Riario looked at him in disbelief :  
— Er… I’d say yes, and so have you !  
— Oh ! Right, Zo laughed, the New World of course ! I’ll never forget the long weeks at see, I can assure you… I meant, on land, on foot or horseback.  
— Never, not this way… I remember going to Spain with Sixtus once but it was much less adventurous. The cities we visited were all too proud of the papal visit, too eager to please his court and escort to give us an impression of what it’s really like. I much preferred our common expedition to the New Continent.  
At that moment, two women came in, carrying heavy trays of food and beverages. He and Leo went to help.  
— Beata and Zita, Girolamo said, angels in this forsaken stronghold.  
— What will become of them if they take it ? Leo asked.  
— Milord will not abandon us, the younger girl said, he never does.  
She was looking at him with undisguised adoration and Leo smiled at this :  
— If this is no trust, I don’t know what is !  
— I made arrangements with Giovanni long ago about all three you’ve met today : if we are attacked, Ercole, Beata and Zita know where to run to. My cousin will come and fetch them there. Come on, I’m hungry… aren’t you all ?  
— You bet I am ! said Zo, coming closer to the wide table and taking place there. He turned around to Sophia : You know, Sophia, he teased, artful sulking does not request starving, take your dirty feet off that chair and come along and sit ! »  
She obeyed, reluctant and sullen.  
Maybe the road and probable bad encounters wouldn’t be the greatest inconveniences after all.

***

From the San Cosimato Convent, Sophia, had learnt many things, read all she could find in the library and, because she needed air and long walks in nature, had improved her technique to escape confinement and boredom.  
She was silent as a shadow creeping along stone walls, knew where to step on wooden stairs to prevent the creaking and mastered the art of inaudible breathing. 

Her room was only twenty-one steps away from the Count’s and she had been spying on Leo to make sure he had made to his. So, here she was, silent as a cat and up to no good, for sure.  
When she thought of it, of Leo and that man in the same bed, it turned her stomach. She knew there had been others, which had been hard enough to swallow, but she had never seen them, been in their presence. At least she had had the possibility to picture them as delicate, feminine creatures.  
This was a quite different case. Riario had nothing to help you forget he was a man, with the roughness, assurance and determination expected from males. 

She snuck up to the door, holding her breath and opened it slowly, lifting it upward so it wouldn’t squeak. Holding her hunting knife tighter, she tiptoed to the only light spot in the room, where the white sheets were catching the feeble moonlight. She lifted her knife, as high as she could. She wanted the stab to be lethal and as fierce as the rage she had been muzzling for days.  
She struck.  
A hand caught her wrist, squeezing it with iron fingers : « Don’t you ever think of it ! he gnashed between his teeth.  
— Leo ! she swallowed.  
— I would kill you, sister, without a twinge of regret ! »  
She surrendered, let her arm slacken.  
Girolamo woke up and figured it all out in a blink. He said nothing, only thought of the hard time Leo would have trying to conciliate both loves.  
Leo took the knife away from her, got up and demanded that she follow him to talk this all over once and for all.

He could not have her accompanying them in such dispositions of mind and, one way or another, would make this quite clear.

***

" You succeeding would have meant the death of me. Were you aware of this before you tried to kill him ? I have to know, Sophia. I need to build this conversation on rock, he snarled.  
She stamped her foot :  
— I cannot even conceive it, don’t you understand ? HE - IS - A - MAN, for God’s sake !  
— He - is - a - person, he retorted.  
— And a bad one, at that !  
— Say you. Who are you, with your eighteen years of semi-experience of life to judge us ? What you love in someone doesn’t limit to their gender, does it ?  
— Well, sex certainly plays a part here, from what I see !  
— It does, but is by no means everything, by Jove ! You know nothing of him, of what he’s been through, of what we have been through together. Our lives have been intermingled for years now and beyond this, there have been numerous signs that our fates are tied. I love his courage, determination, idealism, pragmatism, curiosity, fierceness and weaknesses. I need him. What is it you don’t understand in the concept of « need » ? It’s not « like » or « desire » or « enjoy », it’s « need » !  
There was a lump in her throat now as she remembered the threat :  
— You said you would kill me if I harmed him.  
— I would. I swear I would. I’m sorry, Sophia, but life has made him more of a brother to me than of you a sister.  
— Then everything is clear, isn’t it ? You’ve had your say and put all you had in it. I too am curious. I want to go with you and promise I will not again try and end his life.  
— Are you sure ? Tell me I can trust you. Or better, swear it !  
— I swear… on our mother’s remains. »  
Leo nodded, she did the same and spent the rest of the night on a bench by the fire, trying to understand what kind of destructive power love seemed to have even on men as brilliant as her brother.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our travelers have to leave Forli after two months. It's hard to leave friends behind.

« Please, Ercole, the Count was pleading with feverish eyes, touching the old man with brisk, light touches, as if to make sure he was real, I beg you, follow us ! They will kill you, do not stay !  
— Count, time to go now ! Zo insisted, stamping impatiently.  
— Follow us, we’ll find some place for you to stay, come along !  
— I have lived my life, Girolamo, just go and find yours, at last ! I can slow them down, go !  
The Count’s voice was husky, tears were running down his cheeks now :  
— Please, my friend ! I cannot leave you to this !  
Zo caught hold of his arm :  
— The fucking door’s giving way ! Come, Riario !  
Girolamo took the old man in his arms, hugging him one last time, in spite of Zo trying to pull him back :  
— I will never forget you, Cole. You saved my life more than once, back then.  
— Then, please, do not undo this now, my boy, go. Go ! the man cried out, pushing him away.  
Zo pulled harder and put an arm around his shoulders :  
— Your young servant, she wants to come with us. Come and save us, Riario, you’re the only one to know your way around here.  
Girolamo wiped his tears with the back of his hand, sniffed and hurried away from the distressful scene to the secret door where they were waiting for him.  
— They killed Beata, he said, with a glance at Zita, let’s get out of hell.  
— What about… Leo began. But Zo put his forefinger across his lips, so he went on instead : What about taking Zita along with us ? She wants to come.  
— Let me go, Milord, please, you’re the only one I know and trust, she said.  
— Yes. Yes, do come with us girl, I want to be sure you stay safe. »  
He lowered one of the torch holders on the left and the huge fake sideboard slid sideways, revealing an entrance to the passageway. He went in first, then let his four companions in and pushed a lever upwards. They heard the sideboard starting to slide again and he lead the way, silent, his sight blurring again.  
Yet he must not miss the mark of the second door, the one giving access to another portion of the underground work, which Architect Giorgio Fiorentino had shown him.  
The man had been so wise as to leave the passage out of his layout plans and to make the second escape door undetectable. A mere carving on a stone was to be found, Riario needed help and called Leo : « Do you remember the emblem on Al-Rahim’s coin ?  
— I do, both heads and tails, why ?  
— You should spot the heads pattern somewhere on your right pretty soon, at knee-level. It’s carved into one of the stones.  
Leo patted his shoulder, aware of the reason why he feared to miss it himself :  
— Fine ! I’ll be paying attention… Were the Ordelaffis Sons of Mithras ?  
— One of the boys was… That’s how I got the key. I took it from him and Al-Rahim found me. He then began telling me about the River of Time and everything that went along with it, but I did not trust him. I could not trust his faith.  
— I wish I had been more suspicious myself, Leo murmured, his eyes searching for the well-known sign. Do you know I still have his own coin ?  
— Why keep it ?  
— I don’t know… Maybe to remind me of the colossal error I made by trusting him ? Or, in a more positive way, to remember we defeated them ? » He stopped abruptly and Sophia came and hit him from behind. He dropped his torch.  
She apologized.  
The conversation they had had two months earlier had left scars on them, but she was still willing to give the idea of them being a real couple one last fair chance. However, she never talked to Riario, barely even looked at him. It was much easier that way, pretending he did not exist, forgetting her brother had promised he would kill her if ever she harmed his beloved Monster of Florence. But deep inside, she still hated him. Each time they had been all together, reading by the fireplace at the castle, she had imagined Lucrezia, not that man, resting her head on Leo’s lap, each time they had dined at the same table, she had figured her, not that man, biting into the same apple as Leo, sipping some wine from his glass, kissing him then staring at him with intense eyes.  
He did not know, she would not let him guess that much, but she was a dangerous device, ready to explode on any propitious occasion.

***

The first nightmare occurred five days later, as they were approaching Milan. Again, they had been allowed to spend the night in a barn, about twenty miles away from the big city.  
They were fast asleep, after a long bumpy ride. They had been attacked twice on the road today, which was part of the nuisances to be expected on a busy pilgrimage road. Even though they were all experimented or gifted, the fight had delayed and tired them beyond the ordinary. An ambush always triggers an important adrenaline rush that pumps much of your energy. They had all experienced this many times in their lives, but seldom twice on the same day.  
In the middle of the night, all were startled again by cries of sheer despair : « Father, no ! No !» Leo was crying out, several times on end, lifting his arms, then crossing them around his chest.  
Girolamo seized him by neck and waist and hugged him. He murmured : « Shhh ! Shhh ! Don’t look straight ahead, look around you, Artista, look at the woods behind… Zo is over there, waiting for you. Turn around, Leo. See the path you followed ? Take it again, away from here, away from the clearing. Go back to Zo. There ! Yes…  
Leo woke up, weeping :  
— I saw…  
— I know. Cling to me, love.  
He was stroking his back, kissing his eyelids and cheeks. Leo calmed down.  
— I… I understand what you told me… about the soldiers.  
— I know you do. I knew you would, back then. Come, we’ll lie down a bit closer, not even the breath of air between us.  
— Yes, please, let’s."

And so they did, leaving Zo and Zita with a heavy heart and Sophia with another twinge of mixed jealousy and scorn.

Nobody ever thought of her own grief, now that Lucrezia was dead. She was going through it all all alone. Learning that her father was a rascal, seeing her mother die and then the one she had chosen for a sister… She had to handle it all on her own.  
She lay down, turned her back on them and did her best to muffle the sobs and repeated nose blowing.

Zo thought this meant some improvement, he interpreted it through his own logic, as a deep sympathy towards her brother. She would get used to seeing them together after all, just like himself, despite the loss of everything he had once been hoping for.

But the bad dreams came back. The night after this one and again the nights after…  
Sometimes, Leo was reliving his father’s beheading, sometimes, he was back in the New World, searching for the Book of Leaves. Each time, he would slip and fall, high up above a bottomless crack. Rio caught him by the wrists just in time, but Leo could see Ima approaching, right behind him, lifting a large stone above him, proclaiming : "I am the moon, you are NOTHING"

Girolamo was at a loss as to how he could help him, so that one day he had a silly thought, one of those he would have discarded in the very second in other circumstances. It was haunting him.  
« Leo, he said, I know you will not like this and it is so nonsensical that you must not think of it as a theory…  
— What is it, Count ? Leo smiled on seeing him so embarrassed.  
— Well… hum… Do you still carry that golden coin of Al-Rahim’s ?  
— Yes, I keep it my pocket.  
— Could you… Could I borrow it from you for some time ?  
Leo wrinkled his brow :  
— Why… Oh ! You think it might be the cause of those nightmares, don’t you ?  
— It’s just a guess, a stupid one, I’ll give you that, but I’d like to test the idea.  
Leo found the magic coin and handed it to him.  
— What if you’re proved right, though ?  
— In that case, I suggest you throw it away or give it to someone you dislike, Girolamo joked.  
— Yes, but… It could also mean it’s talking to us again, which would mean I’d want to know what the message exactly is.  
The Count sighed :  
— I know. You couldn’t but desperately want to see what’s hiding behind it.  
— Neither would you, be honest !  
— No, probably not. Well, time will tell. If your nightmares fade away and I start having some, this will be our answer.  
— Aosta ahead, gentlemen !" Zo shouted then.  
Indeed, they had reached the last town before setting off for the long Great Saint Bernard Pass.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aosta brings along some surprises and revelations.

Zita knew something was wrong with Sophia. She saw it on her face and felt it all around her when they walked or rode close to each-other. She wanted to be sure before telling this to Zo, the girl’s best friend.  
She seized the opportunity to talk to her as she found her all alone at a table of the Aosta inn where they would stay for two days. She was eating her soup, while the three men were busy with the horses.  
Zita took a seat in front of her : « Would you like me to ask for some bread ? she inquired, as a way to start the conversation.  
— No, I never eat anything with my soup.  
— Nice to be able to sit at a table again, isn’t it ?  
Sophia shrugged her shoulders, not caring to look up at her :  
— I don’t care. I’m not used to much comfort. Are you ? Sounds a bit strange, considering your position.  
There was a loud burst of laughter from the table next to theirs, where four men were engaged in a game of cards and apparently drinking quite a lot of wine in the process. Four empty bottles were waiting for the waiter to collect and another had already been uncorked.  
— I have not always been a servant, Zita replied. Back in Abyssinia, I belonged to a powerful family, we had a large house and people who'd attend to us. I was captured in a war between clans and they sold me as a slave. Pope Sixtus offered me to Count Riario on his twenty-fifth birthday.  
— So, in fact you’re a slave ?  
— No, he freed me the year before his father’s death.  
— And made you a servant instead. Not a huge difference there, is there ?  
— Oh, there is ! Going to live in Forli meant that I was out of the Pope’s reach. He was a filthy and cruel man. I wanted to be close to the Count, he protected me and taught me Italian and many other things about history… And now, I even know some words of English ! With my skin colour there’s not much I should be allowed to do if I was not his servant.  
— Are you a christian ?  
— I am.  
— Then… doesn’t the relationship between him and my brother offend you ?  
— I had the opportunity to see them together more than once, it was no surprise to me. I’m happy for him they both finally realized they were in love. They are very much alike, despite the differences.  
— In what way ?  
— They share the same curiosity for the world and need for action and are both entirely devoted to their causes, your brother to science and art and Count Riario to spirituality; they were both abandoned by their mothers and rejected by their fathers, so that both are able to understand the problems the other has in terms of trust. It’s a miracle that, while being adversaries at first, they became so trustful of each-other.  
— This rather seems foolish to me : how can you be sure that the former enemy won’t reappear and win after all ?  
— Well, you have to trust the one you love some day, or otherwise stay alone forever.  
Sophia finally looked at her :  
— Better live alone than in bad company, if you ask me.  
The laughing at the next table had turned sour, there was now more mocking than really enjoying. Zita was keeping an eye on the facial expressions of the men and on their gestures. She knew the warning signs of anger. Living around Sixtus had taught her.  
— You think they are bad for each-other ?  
— I believe your beloved Count is. I think he will be deceiving Leo some time or another, or choose a path my brother will not want to follow and this will leave him with disappointment and heartbreak. Riario is a cold-blooded killer, I do not believe you can change overnight.  
— You don’t know him well…  
— How could a servant know him any better ? You are biased. He may have been a good master to you, but he remains a master.  
— Believe me, Sophia, people who serve others know them well. See, masters do not feel the need to wear a mask with us, because most of them see through us, we do not exist. This means that they show their true natures in our presence, unlike when their equals are around. With us, there is no rivalry, no fear, no struggle and no need to please… they are the selves they have to hide from higher society… Be ready to leave, things are getting heated at the table next to ours.  
Sophia glanced sideways, while answering :  
— I think you are deceiving yourself, but I know I will not be able to convince you. The one thing I know for sure and he admitted to this, is that he manipulated my friend Lucrezia into a bargain that lead to her death. So, you will understand I cannot forgive him, won’t you ? »  
She got up and left without another word.  
Zita was now sure she had been right about the girl’s state of mind. She was still a danger.

***

It had been so frustrating for the last ten days, sleeping and riding so close with no intimacy at all !  
Leo and Girolamo longed for a room of their own and were happy to be in Aosta, where they had found an inn with enough rooms to accommodate them. They would have to share with Zo, of course, but the man was getting more and more understanding and would easily be persuaded to leave them on their own for a while.  
But knowing this was not enough. They had to kiss, touch, hug, feel skin against skin… Now.  
Right now.  
They were standing in the stable, looking at each-other—dilated pupils, sweat, fever, short breath.  
Zo noticed this, blushed a bit - he too could do with some physical entertainment - then smiled and said : « All right, I’ll go ahead of you… don’t go and set the whole place on fire, though, we'll need the horses ! »

He could just still hear Girolamo’s raspy : « You’ve been in my unholy dreams for days now, Artista, I want to… »

What a cocky honey-mouthed bastard ! Zo muttered all the way to the inn. « my unholy dreams » ? Really ? Who on earth would say such things ? I’t’s like, « look, I want to fuck you but, mind you, in my most refined, aristocratic words ». Those pricks from the nobility get all the luck !  
But he was smiling, in spite of himself.

Not for long, for when he reached the inn, it was like a battlefield and he had to fight his way up to the corner where Zita had curled up, to take her away as soon as possible.

***

With some help from a couple of other customers, Zo had the four men caught and tied up to chairs.  
By the time Leo and Girolamo entered, they were sitting in the center of the room, circled by some twenty men who seemed to be judging them.  
« Why, is this some kind of courthouse ? Leo asked, taken aback.  
— They were playing cards, next to Zita’s table, Zo explained. Things got heated between them. Then they started a fight. We had to bind them to their chairs to stop them.  
— How is Zita ? Girolamo inquired.  
— Safe and sound, I took her out of here, she should be in her room now.  
— How did it all begin, the innkeeper was asking.  
One of the men, wearing a green cap exclaimed, pointing at one of his companions :  
— That son of a bitch kept laughing at the three of us, saying we had no ambition, pretending we were lazy rascals, content with the breadcrumbs others threw at us to survive.  
— Tell me in what way I was wrong ! a richly clothed man retorted with a scornful grin.  
— Look, a third man said, it may be all right if you say it once, but you kept taunting us with your never-ending lullaby about how meaningless we were… In the long run, this maddened us, don’t pretend to be surprised !  
Instead, the well-dressed customer was sitting a bit straighter and seemed fairly satisfied of the attention he was getting :  
— There’s nothing you can argue against the truth : what have you achieved, any one of you ? I am rich, have my say in the politics of Milan and contribute to its welfare by way of commerce… which one of you can claim equal success ?  
— In that man, I see myself the way I used to be only one year ago, Girolamo whispered in Leo’s ear… The pride I felt on proclaiming all my titles, remember ?  
Leo smiled at him :  
— You don’t do that any more.  
— No. Multiple rejection episodes have taught me how insignificant the Captain of the Holy Roman Church was... Beginning with the way you repelled me when we were approaching the Italian coasts, back from our travel across the seas.  
Leo felt this stabbing his chest :  
— Wha… What are you… Are you blaming me for…  
Girolamo blushed and hastened to add :  
— No. Forget this, Artista… It was a silly and obnoxious thing to say. I’m sorry. I truly am.  
— Oh but, we must talk about it, Count. I demand some kind of explanation to this, because I am quite unaware of the wrong I did your precious, tender soul back then.  
— And now you’re furious.  
— You just accused me of injustice or disregard ! How could I not feel offended ?  
— Neither of us is supposed to be perfect, admit to it !  
Leo’s voice softened :  
— All right, I do. But then you must explain it to me. Take me back in time. I’m honest here, I just cannot remember in what manner I rejected you back then.  
— Is this really necessary, Leo ? I don’t want to spoil what we have now.  
— If I was wrong, I want to see how, I want to make sure it will not happen again. But I cannot prevent something I do not even perceive, right ? Come, let’s have that bit of talking, so that we can put it aside and never repeat it.  
— I love your idealism, Leo ! There will be, has to be, some clumsiness, misjudgment and misunderstanding, we cannot avoid it, no-one can.  
— But I want to know my errors. Don’t you ? Don’t they make our portraits true to life ?  
Girolamo put a hand on his shoulder and turned towards the stairs :  
— Let's go, then… I’m not even sure I want my portrait to be resemblant... But I can understand why an artist would like it to be. »

And so, Leo learnt how he had omitted to say the words the Count was secretly hoping for, back then, as they approached Italy and left behind the alliance they had sealed in the New World. How could he have guessed, though, when Girolamo had just declared he was nothing without the church, when he, Leo, had been fighting Rome for the last year, engineering weapons against them ?  
But inside, he was hurting. To know that, with a single word or even a simple gesture, he could have saved his then enemy, or rather frenemy, from suicide and the Labyrinth… This was really heartbreaking.

That same night, Riario woke up in a trance, menacing, insulting.  
To his great dismay, Leo recognized the Count he had once known for a while, the one he had chained to a post in his workshop…  
« We are one ! We are monsters … The shortest way to your heart is the hole I’ll cut into your chest, Da Vinci ! … I am God’s lethal weapon, kneel before me, you fools… We are one !  
He was sweating heavily, kicking, fighting ghosts. Leo held him tight :  
— Shhh ! We are two and you’re having a nightmare… wake up, Rio ! Wake up and come back to me. I will never ever let you, never leave you like I did back then.  
— We are one !  
Tears rolling from under the eyelids.  
— No. That belongs to the past. We are two. Wake up ! Wake up, my love, please… It’s that fucking damned coin, we’ll throw it away…  
At last, Girolamo woke up from his terrible past.  
— It’s Al-Rahim’s coin, Leo repeated : you’re safe and with me.  
— I’m sorry…  
— Don’t be. We are in this together, creating something, daring to claim our place in the world… And we will succeed, because it’s you and me.  
— Kiss me ! »  
Zo had been holding his breath, he relaxed and shook his head. « Creating something new ! Yeah right, a new kind of hell maybe. » he thought.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophia and Zita both have a problem on the road to Sen Remei.

On the road to Sen Remei, following the furious stream of a torrent, they came across some pilgrims from Cantorbéry.  
Girolamo was right in thinking that the Via Francigena, which the king of Denmark had mentioned during his stay in Rome, back in 1574, was a very busy road indeed. Pope Sixtus had received him with the greatest honors he could think of and lodged him at his palace so that Girolamo had had the opportunity to meet the royal guest and even converse with him.  
The Via Francigena ran all the way from Canterbury to the Holy City and was also used by salesmen. With all those people walking and riding by, it was of course a very good place for robbers as well.  
The six pilgrims they met that day told them there was a refuge at Sen Remei, where they would be able to sleep and dine and even hire a “marronnier“, a man who would help them reach the San Bernardino pass and avoid the snowbanks and cracks. Coming from England, they also provided some precious information about their country.  
In return, the Italian travelers shared their own experience of the road and gave them some food to replace the bread and smoked ham the pilgrims had been robbed of. Then, they parted, with a feeling of camaraderie well known to people who come to share similar experiences.

The scenery was gorgeous. It was bitter cold but the five travelers were getting used to it by now and thus never complained. They were fully aware of how lucky they were to be safe and sound and able to enjoy the thrilling journey.  
As always, Leo and Girolamo were walking a bit ahead. They smiled and now and then even burst out laughing at the many anecdotes from childhood and youth they were telling each-other.

Despite the rejection by their fathers —maybe even because of it — both boys had searched and found joy elsewhere, among boys their age or in the company of more caring adults. Verrocchio to Leo, Ercole to Girolamo had both proved excellent substitute fathers and, although the Count had enjoyed much less freedom, he had managed to find or create some opportunities to give way to his boyish mischief. Some monks were still there to remember a couple of his tricks, ranging from putting frogs or mice into their cells, or bringing birds along to the refectory and dormitory, to messing up the payer books those “holy“ men had carefully arranged. Revenge was exceedingly palatable after the rough and filthy treatment the boys were used to enduring.  
As for Leo, he had met Zo and learned from him quite a lot in matter of mischief.

Behind them, Zo was doing the same to try and keep the girls entertained, mostly to cheer up Sophia a little bit, which amounted to some nasty challenge.  
« I wonder what there really is to laugh about, she remarked, it seems like dead friends are easily forgotten. That poor old man in Forli didn’t mean that much to him after all !  
— How dare you say such a thing ! Zita exclaimed. By which law should Count Riario refuse to outlive a friend ?  
— Meseems he could show more respect and grief. I am still mourning Lucrezia and will for a long time to come, I…  
— Because you won’t let go, Zo put in, you're clinging to the loss... it’s as if you were relishing the pain !  
Sophia turned to him, her gaze dark and piercing :  
— She deserves it. Are you suggesting I should forget her and how precious she was to me ?  
— Come on, Sophia, be honest, if your brother were unhappy you would be less so. Your mourning was much less obvious back in Florence, I remember bloody well !  
— I was keeping myself busy back then and at least, I had someone to talk to !  
— Me ? Well, rejoice ! I’m still around if you only care to notice.  
— Not you, Leo.  
— Leo was so taken in by his private conversations with Riario’s ghost that he had forgotten everything about us all. Do not add lie to envy, girl, that’s two deadly sins if I’m not mistaken.  
— Envy ? And please, where do you see envy in my manners or analysis ?  
— Ha ! It’s so obvious it could blind a mole. Your looks and expressions betray you, girl, but on top of it, envy colours all of your petty criticisms or silences. They are happy and you disapprove of it, worse still, it angers you. If you long for more of your brother’s attention, I’d advise you to work on your bad moods.  
— I don’t need any of his attention.  
— Then why follow him ?  
— I wanted to try and understand what kind of bond it is, this, between them.  
— Then open your goddam mind a bit. Forget what you would prefer. Do you fucking imagine I get great pleasure from the situation ? I have been in love with your brother for years, only to find out he prefers the man I hated the most in the whole bloody world.  
— Then why take their defense ?  
— Because seeing him like this, he smiled, nodding in Leo’s direction, well, it just makes me happy for him. This, this is what he longs for and I’m almost thankful to Riario for giving it to him at last.  
— I say, it's the most foolish chit-chat I ever heard !" she grumbled.

***

At times, the path was steep and narrow, slippery and rather dangerous. Although the horses they had hired in Aosta were used to mountain tracks, you had to be cautious for two : yourself and your mount.  
They were walking in file on such a path when Leo and Girolamo heard two cries behind them : Zita’s and Zo’s. The man was holding her by the wrists with both hands and was crying for help : « Someone to hold the horses ! » he cried out.  
Leo pushed his sister aside, as far as possible from the ravine as he passed towards the place where his friend had lain down on his stomach to catch the girl.  
Girolamo then decided it would not be enough and gave both his and Leo’s horse’s reins for Sophia to hold.  
« And what should I do with three horses in charge, I wonder ? she grumbled. What if one of them… » she was interrupted by his angry look. He said nothing but it was clear enough : just shut up for once, it said. He went and lie down beside Zo to help him pull Zita to safety.

She was frightened but above all full of shame. She was now sobbing and muttering she was sorry to be a burden, that she shouldn’t have intruded on them like this… This was shock, her master knew it well, so he took her in his arms for comfort. But then, quite as unexpectedly as unwillingly, this triggered something and she let out the tears she had been holding back for long years.  
« Please, don’t be kind to me, Milord, it makes it worse, I will be unable to stop crying if you do this, I’ll be weaker still, she pleaded, stuttering almost indistinctly.  
— What’s wrong with “weak“, Zita ? I’ve known you for ten years, no one has more rights or reasons than you to break down… Please, let those tears out, it will do you good. I know. We all know. And as for this accident, it’s all over now : Zo caught you just in time and I am sure this will make him proud and happy for quite a long time, won’t it, Zo ?  
— It will, indeed ! It’s one of the things I am most proud of in all my fucking life !  
Zita gave a quirky laugh between her tears :  
— I have never heard anyone swear as much as you do, but thank you, sir.  
— Now, if you call me that, I’m not that proud after all ! It’s Zo, not Sir ! he protested.  
— All right then, thank you, Zo.  
— We’ll stay like this for a while, today's road is not a long stretch, we can wait a bit, the Count said, I want you to calm down for good, I want you to submit to whatever your feelings demand before we go on. Only then will you be fit. »

And so they did. Zita still cried for a while, and he was right of course, it did her much good. The fear and tension disappeared, she started breathing more easily, and as some kind of strength was radiating from the Count’s body to hers, she regained her assurance.  
When she stood up, nevertheless, he stated that this fit of tears was a signal and that he wanted to hear more about all the things, past and present, that had distressed her so much.  
All the while, Sophia had been chomping at the bit. Yet another pitiful wretched puppy to demand attention from everyone ! Would they ever realize it was fake, just meant to draw attention and sympathy ? Mostly the Count’s sympathy as it seemed. Really ! Was everyone in love with that monster ?

They reached Sen Remei a bit late that evening, but it had been worth it, on more than one level. Zo did not want to mention this right now, but the whole scene had left him with a question he would soon enough ask Leo and Riario.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something funny, something awful.

The accident was so unexpected and disastrous that it drained all of their energy for days. It happened the very first morning in Sen Remei and began with a joke.  
Girolamo, now definitely at peace with his body, got up, all naked, and strolled to the narrow window in the thick stone wall to check for snow, not noticing that Zo too was up and dressing in silence beside his bed…  
« Jeez ! Zo joked, it would seem you get full moon early in the morning around here ! Couldn’t you at least tie up something around your waist when you get up, Your Highness ?  
— Zo ! Since when are you being prudish ? Girolamo laughed, turning around towards him.  
— Hell ! And now, here you go ! Full frontal ! Thank you for this, I'm sure ! What the hell happened to you in-between your black straitjacket period and… this ? Zo gestured with his hand up and down at the Count's nakedness.  
To his great embarrassment, Riario was wearing one of his mischievous smiles as he stepped closer, squared shoulders and mocking look :  
— See, my uncle was trying to poison me, back then, in our Sant’Angelo cells, but it turned out his mixture had not the effect he expected… Bowl after bowl, his potion was liberating me from the carcan I had been wearing for years.  
Zo teased :  
— Well, you’re still an arrogant bastard though, I can tell you !  
He was feeling a bit more uneasy still, as the Count was now only three steps away.  
Leo woke up at that scene and warned his lover, merrily :  
— Don’t you go and taunt my friend with your shameless pride, Rio ! Be at least a bit compassionate and feel his frustration !  
— But I have no intention whatsoever to play with his frustration, Leo, quite to the contrary, I declare I am very willing to appease it !  
Zo froze and stared :  
— Now, I know for sure you’ve really lost your mind, Count. Must be that bloody coin of Al-Rahim’s.  
— But…  
— Not one step further, I warn you ! I may feel a bit more friendly towards you, but I still do not trust you.  
— Not even for a simple kiss ? Girolamo whispered, his eyes and smile softening, relaxing his posture as he took one more step nevertheless.  
— Fuck off ! Zo cried out, pushing him away.  
Girolamo had not seen this coming and lost his balance. He fell backwards, his head hitting hard on the edge of an old stone trough. There was a gruesome cracking noise.  
Zo was stunned, just staring in disbelief :  
— Count ? he called feebly, heart beating fast, sweat on his brow. Count ! That's not... Then, he held his head with both hands and pivoted around, stamping his foot : No ! Please, no ! he cried out.  
Leo sprang out of bed and hurried to the spot. He went pale and knelt on the ground to examine the back of Riario’s head. Some blood was now in his ear.  
— He… He lost his balance. I … Zo stuttered.  
— He fractured his skull, Leo stated, out of breath, his tongue like plaster, swelling in his mouth. Zo could not move, he was shocked. Leo knew the signs, as well as what was to be done, he needed some bullying, that was how Zo worked : Fetch Sophia, but do not tell Zita yet. Tell my sister we’ll need the brown purse in her saddle bag. She will know someone is ill.  
Zo rushed to the door but still turned around :  
— Leo, I had no int…  
— For Heaven’s sake, I know, Zo ! Go ! Now ! »  
Leo was already looking around for some object in the shape of a half-sphere, in which he could rest Girolamo’s head, but he found nothing. He then scoured his memory for an idea, thought of something and, as soon as Zo was back, ran down the stairs to the kitchen.

Left alone with his unintentional victim, Zo rested his back on a wooden post and let himself down all along the pillar. He was still gazing at the lamentable, tragic scene in sheer disbelief : this could not be real, it had not happened.  
Recalling all the stages from the beginning, everything proved this to be a bad dream, just a dream. Riario parading, completely naked around the place ; his own embarrassment ; the man coming up to him and proposing a kiss — Jesus ! Among all things, the sole idea that Riario could have suggested this only proved that it was not real ! — and then, his own sudden anger… Nothing, absolutely nothing, had been close to normal about all this.  
Watching the Count grow paler and paler was so distressful ! What the fuck was Leo doing ? Why was Sophia so slow ? Why didn’t he have the fucking least idea of what was to be done ? Should he hold his head right or leave it that way ? Should he talk to him ?  
Yes. This, he could do.

So, he came close enough to lay a hand on the man’s arm and started clumsily with a rightful and sincere apology. Then, he went : « Don’t let us down, Count. Please, don’t have me live with this. Not now. I wouldn’t have cared in the past, you bloody know it well, but not now, not when Leo is feeling happy at last. He always needed you, you know, not right from the beginning perhaps, but very soon after that. You scared the shit out of me when I saw this. You were taking him away from me, already by the time we had you tied up to your tree… remember ? … »

***

The gloom deepened as the days went by, for if Girolamo’s condition was not getting worse, it was not getting any better either. His face was gaunt and his breath slow and low, so slow and low that the ones at his bedside had to check for it on regular basis.  
Leo’s eyes were dull and swollen. Most of the time she spent here, Zita stared wide at a future that had taken the form of some monstrous creature encased in the wall to the Count’s right.  
Sophia had been banned from the place on her very first visit, when she had laughed at Leo’s improvised head immobilizer, made of an adapted kitchen sieve fixed by bandages.  
« Cut it off, boil with herbs and here you go ! The perfect pork head for dinner ! »  
She couldn’t stop laughing hysterically, even all the while everybody scolded and cursed.

After three days, one of their main concerns was about dehydration. Girolamo could neither eat nor drink and forcing even a spoon of water down his throat could prove dangerous, Leo suspected. So, they dipped pieces of cloth into a bowl of watered wine and pressed them inside his mouth, which was feeling like filling up a sandglass grain by grain.

On the third night, Zo finally dared to tiptoe inside and sit down by the bed, on Zita’s vacant chair. He could barely look at Riario though.  
« Don’t be such a fool, Zo, Leo whispered, we all know you didn’t want this to happen, no need to keep your distance !  
— I just don’t seem to be able to cope with this right now… Why did I go mad like that ? He was clearly only joking.  
— You were feeling weak, a bit on-edge and he pushed it a bit too far, I guess.  
— But… It’s not like me, is it ? I mean, I can take mockery and playful tease for what it is, I know this for sure.  
— Not from Riario, Zo, you never could, Leo said, gently. There’s that rivalry and that genuine instinctive antagonism between you that make a huge difference… And this time… Leo was hesitating, maybe it was not the right time to raise this question.  
— This time, Zo confessed, I was downright stuck between my desire and my self-esteem. I mean… that bloody bastard’s body is pure perfection and I was longing for a fuck. I knew he could see through me and at the same time, my pride was telling me I should take poison rather than humourously accept the kiss. Then, with an uneasy glance at Riario : do you think he can hear us ?  
Leo smiled :  
— Well, if he can and he makes it through this, he might very well have another try at tempting you, you know… Rio is dizzy with the freedom he can enjoy after all those terrible years of frustration, he’s not quite himself yet, though he believes he is. He’s euphoric, high, feeling powerful and thus, not necessarily able to know the limits, be it his or others’.  
— He’d better make it, then ! Zo joked, though with a crack in his voice. No, more seriously, he must. Somehow, I like the guy he’s become… Is your bloody coin still somewhere near ? You know how skeptical I am about it, but wouldn’t it be worth trying it on his wounds ?  
— Are you suggesting it could heal him ?  
— I don’t believe in its weird magic, but given the effects it has on both of you…  
— Rather unwanted ones, though ! Leo retorted.  
— When you are healthy, yes…. But what if it could heal you when you’re ill or wounded ?  
Leo got up, in haste, and before Zo knew it he had cut a slash in the palm of his hand.  
— Are you fucking mad or what ! Zo exclaimed.  
— You wouldn’t expect me to be trying it on him, would you ? What if it makes things worse ?  
— Yes. You got it ! What if the coin makes it worse and you lose your hand, for Christ's sake ? Zo barked out.  
— Better lose a hand than his life. Leo hurried for his saddle bag, his wounded palm upwards and found the coin in one of the pockets of the bag. Here ! Let’s try. He closed his eyes, as if making and ardent wish and placed the coin onto the wound. Then, he wrapped it up with a strip of fabric and stared at Zo with an enthusiastic expression : it’s going to work. I know it. You’re a genius, Zo !  
— Well, to hoping I’m not the evil type of it then. » Zo said, shaking his head.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blackmail, vanity and twins.

But it didn’t work.  
Not at all.  
Only twenty hours later, Leo’s hand was aching like hell, as if constantly holding a red-hot iron bar. It was swollen and the wound was fiery red of infection with a yellowish brim along the cut. As the girl prided herself of knowing a lot about healing plants, Zita told Sophia about it. Maybe she was carrying a couple of dried herbs that could help ? She declared herself willing to help if and when Leo himself would condescend to ask for her assistance.  
She gave Zo the same stubborn answer only hours later, even after he had pleaded that a war between Leo and her was as stupid as deplorable.

However, her heart won the fight against stubbornness and the same night she went and knock on the men’s bedroom door with a bowl of herbal decoction.  
« This should heal you, she said. Dip some dried leaves of sage, here, in this infusion, every hour and lay them on your wound. You should also drink a lot of this — she took a flask from under her shawl — it’s mostly infused thyme and willow bark…  
Leo nodded and thanked, but was now looking at her inquiringly, for he could see she had something on her mind. It was clear that she was now pondering over something else. Leo’s heart was beating faster as he saw her throw sideway glances at Girolamo. :  
— Say it ! he encouraged.  
— I… I can help him recover rapidly, she nodded in the Count’s direction, but…  
— But ? But what ? Come on, Sophia, help me ! Help us !  
— But there is one condition and you will not like it.  
— I’ll do anything, you want, no matter what… What is it ?  
— That you leave and never see him again.  
— What ? he cried out, his voice shaking. I … I cannot do that ! Sophia, what you’re demanding is unthinkable. Have you really no notion at all of what love is ?  
— So... There is only one condition and you’re telling me you cannot even agree to it ? Well, I do not indeed call this love. His life is at stake, here, and you are refusing to save it ? she taunted.  
He sighed, both furious and discouraged :  
— I see… You’re taking revenge for Lucrezia… Well, hear the truth : she would hate you for stooping to such blackmail.  
— I disagree : she did everything to free her father. Apparently you’re not capable of doing the same to save your… lover’s life !  
— The way you spat the word says it all… Yes, it’s LOVER, Leo emphasized, as in « love » and everything that goes along with it.  
She got up, firm and dignified, arranging the bowl, flask, dressings and sack of herbs on a chair in a perfect, rigourous alignment :  
— Well, it’s all up to you now, that's all I can say. »  
She gave him another demeaning stare, then turned and left.

Leo took Girolamo’s hand : « I cannot do that, Rio, I’m sorry. I cannot ! »

***

« See, up to yesterday, when you came to our room and propose that hideous arrangement, I had forgotten you were that manipulative rogue’s daughter, Leo hissed. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree after all !  
— Give me my father’s coin, she retorted, I cannot keep the promise I made you without it.  
He bent down from horseback and handed the coin to her :  
— Here’s to never meeting you again.  
— I’ll send a message as soon as your man is safe and sound, but remember : never try to look him up, or the coin will tell me ! »  
He trotted his horse with an angry quick pressure of his heels and off he went.  
Zo’s face was set as he looked at Sophia one last time, putting all the grievance he could in his black eyes. He left her with a wish :  
« I hope you’ll pay for this, somehow, you malevolent bitch. »

When they dismounted to rest their horses, two hours later, Leo murmured, grimly : « I’m not even sure he’s safe with her.  
— That’s one of the reasons why Zita stayed : she’d kill her rather than let her harm him in any manner.  
— But you heard what she said : she needs to resort to magic. What can Zita do against magic !  
— The girl is smart, I trust her brains. Anyway, you had no other choice, had you ? You know we couldn’t have saved him on a short term, he would have starved before his bones mended.  
— I know… Fuck ! I hate being so powerless ! If only I had known some expert in the field of medicine !  
— If only we knew Vlad’s secret !  
Leo froze on spot. Zo turned to him, read his expression and raised his index :  
— No. No, Leo, definitely not ! I‘ve got a feeling your Count would hate the solution you’re thinking of right now.  
— He would be immortal !  
— And would have to feed on people and would look hideous… See, recently, I had a vague impression he was bloody pleased with his good looks.  
— He’s not vain ! Leo protested.  
— Who said he is ? There’s a difference between conceit and pride, if you allow me. I’m fucking proud of my looks but I know their limits, I know they are not everything, nor the best on earth ! Still, I’d hate to resemble Vlad, I swear !  
— All right, I get it. No Wallachia then, Leo said, resuming the walk.  
— Thank God for this ! »

***

The golden coin was spinning frantically and the shabby room had transformed into a hall of white marble and golden statues. No ceiling, but the black sky sprayed with hundreds of crystalline solidified raindrops. There was a light summer breeze and the shouting from some distant marketplace.  
Zita held her breath as she saw the Count sliding closer to them, as would a ghost. He was wearing a black uniform and both his dagger and sword. ..  
« So you have sent for me ? »  
Tears were now filling Zita’s eyes. Such a long time, it seemed to her, since she had last heard his voice !  
« I have ! Sophia said. I need your help to cure another version of you.  
— Another version of me I would come to like or rather hate ? he asked, ironic.  
— Only you could tell, but I am not allowed to reveal much about his life or personality.  
— I guess there may be slight changes, but me is always me, isn’t it ? What happened ?  
— You fractured your skull in a fall.  
— Well, maybe I deserve to die, then ! What a stupid, offending clumsiness !  
— No, you were pushed and your head violently hit a stone.  
— Who pushed me ?  
— Does it matter ?  
— Would it matter to you if someone broke your head like a nutshell ?  
— I guess it would.  
— See ? Well, then ?  
— One Zoroaster Da Peretola… But it was quite accidental, it was in play.  
— Worse still ! Not even in battle or one-on-one fight ? How demeaning ! Shameful. I’m wondering if I truly deserve to live.  
— Oh, you do, Milord ! Zita intervened.  
He looked her up and down, frowning, harsh.  
— And, pray, who the hell would you be ?  
— I’m your servant girl in this life of yours.  
— And a devoted one, it appears. Do I… Do we…  
— No, Milord, but you taught me Italian and English and I always cook your favourite dishes.  
— Which are ?  
Zita enumerated the meals her Count liked best.  
The other Riario was still standing very upright and arms crossed on his chest, but was now wearing a smile and moistening his lips with the tip of his tongue :  
— Stop ! Enough ! I’ve got my mind made up : that Riario sounds like a man of good tastes. I am willing to help.  
— Oh ! Thank you, Milord, Zita exclaimed as she curtseyed.  
— My pleasure… Remains to know in what manner I can do so.  
— It should be easy, Sophia smiled : Just go to a place called Vinci, find one Piero d’Antonio di ser Piero di ser Guido da Vinci and kill him. He’s a bit younger than you and a notary.  
— Very well ! So be it… I suppose he deserves it ? And knowing myself well enough, I guess this version of me is worth the sacrifice.  
Zita was appalled. If that Count succeeded, Leonardo would never be born, and he was her master’s saviour !  
— Don’t ! she cried out.  
— Why not, then, maid ? he frowned again.  
— The man is the father of the greatest genius of our times… This… This version of yourself considers him as a brother, as well as a great artist and inventor.  
— Soooo… I can hear you, girl, but what if your companion, Daughter of Mithras, does not give me some other option ? Or do you, Time-Traveller ?  
— I’m afraid I do not. And there would be a huge retribution for you on top of it.  
The Count looked at Zita, then back at Sophia, holding his chin between thumb and index, tightening his lips several times :  
— Is your version of me worth the life of a genius ? he asked.  
— Our Count Riario will not live long enough for us to know, Milord, because the son of that man you are supposed to kill will not be born and thus, not able to save his life, like he did two years ago.  
— Damned ! In both cases, that Riario guy is a dead man then ! I will not kill an innocent man for nothing, Daughter of Mithras !  
— I told you, there will be a huge retribution ! Sophia insisted.  
— I do not condone useless manslaughter, never !  
— Is this your definitive answer ?  
— It is ! Assuredly !  
Then they heard a raspy voice congratulating him :  
— You’ve just made the right choice, Count. I have not had many opportunities to congratulate myself in my life but this is one perfect occasion : thank you !  
— Milord, is this for real ? Zita was crying.  
— I believe it is, he smiled.  
— Well then, the other Riario grumbled, I suppose I may go back to my game of go ?  
— You may, indeed, Your Highness, Sophia confirmed.  
He had turned but had another sudden idea and came back :  
— Riario, boy, stop fooling around with scoundrels, will you ? It would feel quite humiliating to know that a version of myself can be so silly as to die at a game of who pisses the farthest ! »


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time-travel again. Two letters. When Riario meets Riario.

« Do you know where we are, Milord ? Zita asked, looking around her at the courtyard with its columns and the low-relief fresco of repeated coats of arms.  
— Definitely entering some building belonging to the Medicis, and I'd bet on their Palace, though I never went in through this courtyard before…but that’s not what’s worrying me most. That Sophia girl left us here, in the middle of nowhere but unguarded; that should indicate that we are no prisoners of space, but…  
— But of time ! Zita exclaimed.  
— Yes. The question isn’t “Where are we ?“ but “When are we ?“.  
— Maybe in the other Count’s time period then ?  
— That’s what I’d like to know for sure. If it is so, our resemblance should be an asset, for there must be someone around here who knows him.  
— What if he doesn’t want to help us, though ?  
— I guess he will not refuse to provide some information about the town and people we could… The Medici bank should be just upstairs, I remember… This could be Cosimo’s era.  
— Il Magnifico’s grandfather ?  
— Yes. Let’s go up those stairs, we may find someone, maybe even Cosimo himself.  
— You know, Milord… she said, scurrying at his side.  
— Zita, please, do stop with that “Milord“ stuff, I told you, didn’t I ?  
— You did, she admitted. So… let’s give it a try : You know, Sir… is this any better ?  
— It will do, for the time being.  
— You know, I wonder if Sophia really is a Daughter of Mithras, like she wants us to believe. Of course, she can use the coin, but does it mean she is one of them ? I mean, I bet the coin would spin as well if you or Leonardo used it : your bad dreams tend to prove so.  
— Maybe… And here’s another sign : the guards didn’t stop us, he whispered as they were coming closer to the bank’s entry, so we can now be sure Girolamo Riario is no stranger here, nor is he an unwanted visitor. We are lucky, Zita… Ah, look ! See that man over there, in the crimson tunic ? That’s Cosimo. I want to talk to him in private, so I’ll use the fraternity’s formula. Be ready to run if you see this angers him. He frowned... Unfortunately, those clerks all work in silence, I’d prefer them to be just a bit more noisy. Some noise could cover my stanza.   
— I think the very first words could suffice to draw his attention, couldn’t they ?   
— I hope you are right, he said, patting her shoulder and smiling… I’ll just want you to stay a bit behind, otherwise he will kill me for giving away the password in your presence.   
So, she stayed where she was, not far from the entry, as he went to approach the great Cosimo de’ Medicci.  
— Buon giorno, Excellency…  
— Girolamo ! What are you doing here, my friend ? I thought you were back in Rome by now.  
— I just need to talk to you, brother. I’m a son of earth… and starry Heaven, he went on, in his ear.  
The man looked at him in disbelief, then took his arm to lead him hurriedly to another room. He ordered the men who were working there to leave, then exclaimed, once they were alone :  
— You ? Of all people…  
The man’s amazement was so genuine that Girolamo couldn’t contain a half-smile :  
— It’s not quite as it seems, signor, I am not the Girolamo you know. I was sent to your time by… shall I say mistake ?   
— Who sent you ?  
— Al-Rahim’s daughter.  
Cosimo frowned and looked at him in mistrust :  
— To my knowing, Al-Rahim has no legitimate daughter.  
— Maybe not legitimate, no… She’s the daughter of one Caterina di Meo Lippi.  
— What ? The seer ?  
— You know her ?  
— We are all time-travellers, you know.  
— Oh, yes… Of course ! That one had escaped me !  
— You seem to take all this as a joke ! Cosimo scolded.  
— I don’t, I assure you I don’t. I would hate to be stuck in this “now“ as a matter of fact. That’s why I ‘m asking for your help.  
— Tell me the whole story first… Come, let’s go to my study, it’s just upstairs.  
— Would you mind my calling for my servant ? She knows everything about it and she’s a great help, most of the time. She’s insightful as well as reliable.  
— All right, take her along then. »

***

Sophia was supposed to send the message to Petrecastel (Bourg-Saint-Pierre) and would entrust it to one of the many marronniers who passed by every day between Aosta the Great St Bernard hospice. In Late Autumn, Winter and early Spring, many peasants and innkeepers earned their living that way, becoming precious guides to travelers of all sorts, be it pilgrims, merchants , simple travellers or members of the nobility who trekked on foot or horseback from France to Italy.  
Leonardo and Zo had received a very friendly welcome from the canons in charge of the hospice, but Leonardo had been lying on his bed the whole day, complaining about a terrible headache, stomach cramps and sweating, saying he had caught some severe influenza on their way.  
But Zo knew better. He had seen him lighting his pipe and this meant resort to opium and the dive into forgetfulness it could provide. 

No wonder ! He too was nervous and kept talking to everyone who happened to be so foolish as to come close. He needed to talk, needed to listen to other experiences than their own. He wanted all those people’s life stories to blur the reality of the last days at San Remei. When he lay down at night, he kept reliving the scene of Riario falling backwards and the nasty breaking noise.

He was listening to a merchant’s grievances about the hard times he was going through when a new group of four men entered the nude but warm refectory of the hospice. One of them called out : « I’ve got messages for one signor Da Vinci, here… Anyone by that name ?   
— Over here ! Zo cried out, standing and raising his arm.  
The man approached :  
— You are signor Da Vinci ? he inquired.  
— I’m his friend, Zoroaster Da Peretola.  
— Ah ! Right ! The young lady said I could hand it over to you as well. » he smiled.  
He handed the messages, then hurried to a table for a bowl of hot soup.

Zo didn’t even bother to say goodbye to the merchant he had been listening to , he ran up the stairs two by two to give Leo the precious letters — to hoping he would be sufficiently conscious to be able to read !

Brother, the first message went, As promised, I can announce that your friend is now safe and sound. He and his maidservant have left, on travel, and I expect you to hold your promise to keep away from them. You’ll find a letter from him along with this one.

Cold and still angry.  
Leonardo opened the second with trembling hands :

"My Artista,  
Sophia must have told you I am fine and preparing to leave with Zita. I do not know where we are heading to as yet, Sophia had us tied up to our beds and will release us once she has decided on our destination.  
Our daring journey has turned short, hasn’t it ? I wish we could go back in time and make other arrangements, but here we are !   
I know you made a promise not to search for us, but I did not and will not make such promise. So, I swear I’ll be looking for you endlessly and obstinately.  
What would I do without you in my life anyway ? You are everything to me, everything.   
I’m sure either fate or God will allow for us to meet again soon, for our living our lives apart is now inconceivable.  
I miss you immensely and I’m confident you miss me too. There’s no conceit in this, only belief in the feelings we share.  
Tell Zo I am not angry with him, rather with myself for taunting him like that back then. I was stupid, arrogant and, though I had no intention to trick him, a bit cruel as well.   
I love you, please do not lose faith in this, ever,  
Rio.

***

The Riario Gardens had been opened to the public very recently, as way to contribute to Cosimo de’ Medici’s effort to spread amongst all the pride at being a Florentine. He was already confident that his city would soon be considered as a jewel all over the world, he was now endeavouring to make its inhabitants plainly conscious of this.   
Count Riario had been willing to help him attain his goal, since he himself, though a Roman, admired Florence’s aura and freedom.   
His father agreed with him in no way about this. To him, Rome alone was admirable and worth fame and respect. The Pope was planning to have a new Palace built in the City and, for the time being, the Palazzo Laterano seemed to him remarkable enough to draw attention and awe.   
The quarrel between father and son was epic, dated back to more than twenty years earlier and was as fierce as if their very lives depended on who was right and who was wrong. With time, like cancer, it had spread to each and every subject you could fathom, from the least important to the most crucial. 

« I wish I had shared your insight about free will and independence earlier myself, Girolamo remarked, as they were walking down a luxurious alley of magnolia trees. I wasted years being faithful, obedient and truthful… all for nothing. My father never cared about me, I killed many just to please him and help him reach his goals.  
— Fathers can prove destructive, Riario said. If it weren’t for my mother, I might have followed the same pattern, you now. But she was careful to teach against the main current, she opened my eyes... See this bushes ? Once the magnolias have faded, they will reach full bloom and this walk will remain as delightful as it is today... Somehow, I believe that’s what we are to one another on our river of time : one individual to complete the painting. Your darkest moments may have highlighted the spectacular items of our common tapestry.  
— It seems to me you are the optimistic version of Girolamo Riario, Rio smiled.  
\- I don’t know… besides, being optimistic is not enough to be of any significance, is it ? What do you achieve by optimism ? How does it promote progress and general well-being ?  
— You sound like my friend, always demanding more from himself and from life. I say that optimism and passion are contagious and this cannot be bad, can it ?  
— Perhaps you are right… Come, let’s talk more specifically about your situation now : I can hear through your praise that you badly miss your friend. Let’s find some way to counteract that witch’s spell. Cosimo The Elder is right, you know : to my knowing no "Daughter of Mithras" has ever walked this earth, at any time. Believe me, she’s a fraud. »


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On how to kill time and frustration.

Of course, Leonardo and Zo couldn’t go back to Florence, and on second thought, it had even been quite unwise to give their real names to the canon in charge of this refuge. If that religious man happened to learn why Girolamo had been accused and proved guilty of in the first place, he would probably forget his mission here and warn the authorities. Obviously, the two men who had helped the pope’s assassin escape would not seem worth saving to him. 

Yet, the idea of leaving Petrecastel only two days after their arrival did not meet with their approval either. They secretly hoped the Count and Zita would find a solution within days, thus find them more easily here, the first stage right after Sen Remei.  
So they decided on staying for some more days nevertheless. 

To Leo’s contentment, the canons had collected many books along the years and a room was dedicated to what was now accordingly called the “library“.  
He badly needed to challenge his brain, to keep it busy with something else than Girolamo, his absence and his uncertain fate.  
Zo needed more physical occupations and was keeping himself busy with helping those who attended to the new comers or ill travellers. Leo had trained him for years at all sorts of missions, most of the time beginning with “fetch me“ or “help me“, so that the nurses’s orders brought no significant change to his ordinary.  
On the third evening, he went so far as to accompany the rescue team to go and help two monks who had made a bad fall on the way from Ursiores (Orsières).

When he came back, late at night, he found Leo in the dormitory, sitting on his bed and still reading by candlelight. He seemed absorbed and his fingers were playing in the air, probably scheming some new idea or taming a new concept. He watched him do so for a minute, recognizing the artist’s attitude when some discovery or creation was at hand :  
« Anything new ? Zo asked  
— Yes, he said ardently, I’ve been reading this book about the cult… Of course, I had read many others, back when I learned about the Book of Leaves and met Al-Rahim, but this one is more complete. And guess what ?  
— What ?  
— There is not a single mention of any woman as part of the cult members. It would seem you cannot be an active member if you’re a girl.  
— Sophia never pretended she was, did she ?  
— It was implied in her intention to use the coin and its magic to cure Rio though, don’t you see ? I wonder what the real followers would think about a girl using their coin.  
— You think they would disapprove.  
— I presume they would. Such brotherhoods are hermetically closed. I cannot even imagine how offending it must seem to them. I believe they were angry at me for a similar reason : I repudiated them , the single fact of keeping Al-Rahim’s magic coin could have infuriated them.  
— And that was the message in your nightmares, then ?  
— I can only suppose it was. Had I thrown the coin away, the nightmares would probably have stopped.  
— And well inspired you were to keep it, nevertheless, or Sophia would not have been able to save your Prince of Darkness, Zo chaffed him.  
Leo stretched his lips in a mimic, somewhere in-between smile and scream :  
— Do you think he’ll be able to find us, Zo ? He should already be here, shouldn’t he ?  
— He must have some good reason for keeping you waiting. Maybe your sister is still keeping an eye on them… who knows ?  
— Or maybe she has locked them up somewhere and they cannot escape… I shouldn’t have allowed her to accompany us once I saw how hostile she felt to Girolamo.  
— Come on, you had to give her a chance and you know it. She’s your only family now.  
— She is not, not after this. »  
That night, they decided they would stay here two more days and then leave for the next leg of the journey, towards Ursiores.

***

Girolamo walked barefoot, slowly, softly into the enclosed patio where Zita was enjoying an evening bath in a luxurious pool paved with colorful mosaics. He came closer to the edge, sipping from his glass of red wine and sat on the ground to watch her swim.  
She showed no fear when she caught sight of him and smiled back when he raised his glass and brandished a bottle from behind his back.  
She swam towards him, unashamed of her nakedness. He proposed his own glass to her : « I’m afraid you’ll have to drink from mine, I haven’t brought another.  
— This seems a bit intimate, Milord, but I’m too thirsty to care for etiquette, she laughed softly, accepting the glass. It is wonderful, down here, it feels like bathing in the middle of some tropical forest, only, with the comfort of a palace.  
— I’m glad you are able to relax for a while…  
— Will you help me get out, Milord ? she asked, putting out a hand.  
He seized it and confessed, with a naughty half-smile :  
— I’m not your master, Zita. To you, I am “the fake one“, so to say.  
— I already knew.  
— How could you ? We are perfectly alike, in fact, I am him !  
— I called you Milord twice to make sure you were not my Riario. Besides, my master would have turned away immediately on seeing I was all naked.  
— Am I… somehow… prudish, in your time ?  
— I would not call you that, but you definitely believe in the virtues of chivalry, she said, putting on her blouse and skirt.  
— Am I being discourteous then, Zita ?  
— You are not. I was the one who put out her hand for you to help me out. You were just being a bit playful, perhaps, by offering to share a glass.  
— Would you care my being more daring ?  
His cheeks were a bit blushed, his eyes larger and darker and his breath shorter. Her gorgeous body and hair were wetting the fabric of her blouse.  
— How on earth is it possible that he never ended up in your bed ? You are such a beauty, and such a clever and lovable person on top of that !  
— The wonder is that I could will myself not to sneak into HIS."  
She kept looking him in the eyes now, sharing all his signs of unrest. She had wanted to touch that body for what seemed ages, ever since she had been offered to him as a present, some ten years ago. She wanted to kiss it, caress and taste it and have it inside her.  
Her heart was beating much too fast as he put down his glass, got up and came closer. She melt with the touch of his lips on hers, weak and dizzy.  
Then, he grabbed her and carried her inside like a bride, whispering all kinds of tempting, mischievous plans he had in reserve.

***

In a reddish haze of fire and blood, they were fighting like mortal enemies, not even remembering what about. It takes very little to sparkle a rivalry like theirs, a few ill-chosen words and the room is ablaze.  
Above them, a fire was raging, its shimmering lights of orange and red scattering the shadows of the dungeon where they were imprisoned.  
They were out of breath. The chalenges of the preceding days and of the present man-to-man struggle were taking their tolls on them both and there were cuts and bruises all over their bodies.  
Dogs. Enraged. Brains and dignity neutralized by fury and pride.

Then, everything changed in a twitch.

They were gazing into each other’s eyes and now there was only nature all around them, woods and late Spring, the smooth shades of trees upon them, the distant call of a cuckoo and frantic, busy flights of birds in search of food for their chicks.  
They looked at the damage they had caused, each guessing what they must look like just by watching the other’s body.

« A pretty mess you’ve done ! Riario teased in a low mocking voice.  
— You started it, you wanted it, Leo grumbled, sheathing his blade and stepping forward.  
— Did I, really ? the count grinned, taking a few steps as well, still losing himself right in the shades of emerald green.  
Leo froze on spot, suddenly caught as in a net and petrified, unable to turn away his gaze and walk away, despite the thirst. :  
— We should find some water to clean our wounds, he just managed to say, more like an automat, as Girolamo was stepping closer still, mesmerizing him with the outrageous intensity in his eyes and all about him, like an aura.  
— Who needs water ? he gloated, I declare myself victorious and, as such, claim the right to your blood, Artista.  
Which paralyzed Leo a bit more yet.  
— Are you… Are you going to kill me, after all ?  
— No such savage thing, the count menaced, putting his right hand on Leo’s shoulder : I intend to drink you dry.  
He put out his tongue, licked his own lips and then, leaning forward, the wound he had cut under Leo's clavicle.  
The artist shuddered. A hand at Riario’s nape, the other in his back he pulled him closer still, aroused by the sensation and idea of his rival licking at him the way a wolf would take care of a wound. This was raw and more primal than anything he had ever known, more intimate still than sex.  
He moaned and inspired between clenched teeth, leaning backwards, offering more of himself to the combined abrasion and delight.  
Impatient now to reciprocate, he took a step back and, grabbing Riario’s head with both his hands, kissed him passionately, tasting the saltiness of blood and sweetness of the count in his mouth. Then, he kneeled, loosened Girolamo’s breeches and in turn, licked at the blood running down his waist with the tip of his tongue, sucking and biting gently all along the salient iliac spine.  
Girolamo pushed his hips forward a little, calling out « Yes, Artista , more ! »

And in different times and places, they woke up, out of breath, feverish, sweaty and both sobbing in frustration.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophia is still in Sen Remei and receives a visit. So do our two Counts and Zita.

Sophia was lying on her bed, her angry eyes fixing a crack in the ceiling which had the form of a dog’s head. She was furious against everyone, living or dead, mad at her wretched fate.  
What can you expect from life when you’re the daughter of a fanatic cheat and a slave ? Then again, how could her mother have been so naive ? Why were women so determined to have a man in their lives in the first place, to stoop to such dependence ? Were social norms not sufficient ? Did they really have to find themselves a master to reign at home, while there were already so many outside ?

As a result, here she was, all alone. No friends, no life, not even the least perspective.

She shouldn’t have left for Florence.  
Had she known what kind of man her brother really was, she would have gone back to the convent. At least, her life amidst the nuns was simple, organized and left her enough time each day for books and study. Getting to know her brother had not proved worth leaving all that behind.  
Sure, he was clever, but also a lovesick puppy, unable to master his instincts in favour of a higher goal. He pretended he had done so for some years, when he was a military engineer, or in search for the Book of Leaves, he said he had sacrificed his feelings and yearnings to ideals, but how could she believe this now that his sole ambition seemed to limit itself to Girolamo Riario ?

She groaned in rage at the simple evocation of that man. She had never met anybody that infuriating : conceit, cold-bloodedness, cunning, piety… 

How on earth had Zo even fancied setting off for such a long journey alongside his rival ? If only he had stayed in Florence, she would now know where to go, she could leave this shabby inn of Sen Remei for the lively and colorful Florence immediately. She despised his acceptance of the revolting relationship between Leo and that damned Count ! Tolerance was a virtue of the weak, the feeble-minded. 

She must have been glaring at the dog-head on the ceiling for too long, for she realized it was beginning to undulate , the way things do in the hot sun, dancing some kind of “baladi“, like oriental dancers. Its color was changing too, from dirty grey to terre-de-sienne and silver.

That’s when she felt his presence.  
She rose to sit on her bed and saw him.  
A scream stuck in her throat, she suddenly felt ice cold, though, very unexpectedly, sweat was now covering her whole body.

« You know who I am, do you not ? the man said with a touch of oriental accent that in no way warmed his disapproving tone.  
— Are… you… my father ?  
— I am a father to many, by blood or affinity, but to none as stupidly self-indulgent as you !  
— I am not self-indulgent !  
— Silence ! How dare you ? How dared you use my magic coin to your own petty benefit ?  
— I had to cure that man.  
— And in what way were you forced to exile him in another period of time ? Whom or where did you get that right from ? He, like your brother, is a piece of our magical mosaic. You had not the least legitimacy to interfere !  
— That killer cannot be an important element of your scheme. Unless your brotherhood cherishes imperfection !  
— The Sons of Mithras do not reason in terms of good and evil, you dirty leech. Your mind is stuck into the narrow frame those nuns of yours gave it. A daughter of Mithras, if such aberration existed, would never content herself with any pre-defined pattern, she would kick her mind free, break doors and pull down walls !  
— Are you here just to sermon me ? Sophia sneered, her face twisted in displeasure.  
— I am here to give you a chance to pay your debt.  
— I’m very much obliged, for sure ! Or what ?  
— Or you will die in a very long and painful agony, Al-Rahim claimed, anger burning in his black eyes. This is no unfounded promise, I can assure you. We hate disrespect and vanity.  
She lost her assurance :  
— How ? What do you expect from me ?  
— Your brother will know. Leave this place early tomorrow morning and join him and his friend at the San Bernardino Hospice. He is allowed to have the coin, you-are-NOT.  
— Does that mean that that horrible man will be back ?  
— If you succeed, he will. If you do not, you ought to prepare yourself for what awaits you. »

***

« Where is Count Riario ? Leo hissed when his sister reached the table where they were dining, two days later.  
— Good evening to you too, brother !  
— And where is Zita ? Zo joined in.  
— In Florence, back in 1435. Cosimo de’ Medici’s time.  
— What ? Leo shouted.  
— How did you mend his fracture ? Zo asked.  
— I used the coin, found the Girolamo Riario of that period. Only he could help. I sent them both over there the same way.  
— Why are you here, Leo grunted, I told you I didn’t want to see you ever again, didn’t I ?  
— My father came to me and told me you would know what to do.  
— So, now, because your father told you, you are willing to cooperate ? Doesn’t sound like you.  
She blushed and averted her eyes :  
— He threatened me. If I cannot undo the damage, I will die. They will torture me to death.  
— Ha ! No surprise there, they must be offended that a girl used their magic. The Sons of Mithras are not in favour of all progress, after all. Bad luck, Sophia ! Zo mocked.  
— So, I guess I am to use the coin now, Leo sighed. A very nasty trick you played on us all indeed. Now I’m bound to be their toy again. Don’t be surprised if another leaf, or the Book of Leaves itself comes back up to the surface !  
— Wait. What ? Zo exclaimed. I thought the devilish thing had been destroyed !  
— It was, indeed, destroyed… in theory. But with with Girolamo now a prisoner of Cosimo’s era…  
Zo hit the table with his cider mug :  
— It still exists for him ! But… Al-Rahim was killed, back in Otranto… How the fuck can he still appear to your sister ?  
— The same way he appeared to me when I drank that “Rope of The Dead“ potion. He’s just another version of himself.  
— Like you when you saw yourself hanging in the manner of the hangman in that cave when you were a child ?  
— Yes, Leo nodded.  
— Gives you a bloody headache when you come to think of it ! » Zo whispered.

They kept silent for a while, each assimilating the information following their own path.  
Sophia hated the idea of meeting with Riario again and of working with her brother… But would he even let her take part in the search ? He could no longer trust her and would undoubtedly keep her at bay.  
Zo was musing on their adventures in the New World, the perils, the dungeons, the infamous times of abstinence : no booze, no sex and nothing really decent or sufficient to eat.  
Leo was scheming : his mother had been betrayed and had hidden the book in Constantinople, yes, but that was now ! Where was it, back in 1435 ? Would Al-Rahim and his faction demand that he should look for it or would they charge Girolamo with that mission ?

« I must go and re-read the book I found here ! » he said curtly, jumping to his feet, leaving the other two with their reproachful silence.  
So Zo got up, ignoring the girl, and joined the rescue group that was assembling at the door.  
Sophia went and sit by the fireplace, ruminating about how stupidly and stubbornly the two men were behaving, as if they alone were righteous and sensible.  
To sum it up, they were just behaving like men, end of story !

***

He could see how Zita seemed to be in a bloom now and, to his disappointment, he realized this was leaving an incomprehensible aftertaste of jealousy. Yes, very disappointing of him indeed ! He should have been happy to see her like this... and so he was. So, where did the bitterness come from ? Did he like her ? Yes, very much. Was he in love with her ? No. He had never been and was not, right now. Was it some sort of misplaced and petty envy due to his own frustration ? No.

His other self saw this and knew exactly what was going on but preferred not to tackle the subject, he would wait for Girolamo to allude to it before. It was fear. Fear of losing the only person he cared for, now that Da Vinci was no longer by his side.  
As for him, Zita had brought along happiness in his life and he had postponed his return to Rome yet another time. He would enjoy every single moment of her presence. He knew it wouldn’t last forever, he was aware of being only a substitute for another man. That the latter was no other than his time double made no difference. It was “her Riario“, as she used to call him, she was in love with. So he was trying to make the best of it and live up to the “carpe diem“ which so many Florentines seemed to have chosen for a golden rule.

What happened to him just one week after his unexpected guests’s arrival was going to change his life to such an extent that he realized he would from then never be able to choose for the “normal“ kind of life anyway. There would be no ordinary married life, no ordinary career and assuredly no certainty whatsoever for him.

Girolamo — “Zita’s Riario“ — had just come back from the Medici’s Palace. He was, so to say courting Cosimo’s opulent library assiduously, in search of some way to navigate the River of Time and go back to his beloved Da Vinci.  
Riario wondered at the passion his other self seemed to nourish for the artist. As far as he was concerned, he would never be able to feel that kind of love for anyone of his own sex. He was neither showing nor feeling any contempt or disgust about it though, it was just factual, in no way judgmental. His mother had done and said all she could to keep him from ever becoming a self-righteous fool. 

Moreover, he lived in the same house with Girolamo every day, in his own Florentine villa, and could witness that the man was profoundly affected by the separation. His love must have been strong and sincere.

So, back from the Medici’s, Girolamo joined him and Zita in the patio they had chosen as their everyday rendezvous.  
« There is no single way I can navigate the River of Time by my own means, Girolamo moaned as he was helping himself to a glass of wine. It appears that Cosimo, Solomon Ogbai, Avraham Ben Yosef and Al-Rahim each have their own gift but that only the latter can appear to non-members of the cult. The other three use different artifacts to contact members and novices but cannot visit non-initiates at any other points in time.  
— How disappointing ! Zita whispered. So, we’ll have to hope for Sophia to change her mind ?  
— Or for Al-Rahim to be willing to listen to us.  
— Does Cosimo know where he is at the moment ? Riario asked.  
— Of course he does, but he made it quite clear : that’s not the point. If we went to see Al-Rahim, he could still elude us… Hell ! This could last for years. I’m not sure I’ll be able to go through this new trial, there have been too many !  
— Nonsense ! Riarios sniffed. You are a warrior of faith, the sun would rather melt than see you surrender.  
— I let down my faith.  
— No, you just added a new religion to your life when you met Da Vinci and you could go through hell and back for your faith, I’m telling you. That’s what we are and what we do : follow our goals to the last breath of life. You will find him, whatever it takes… and then, he went on on a lighter mode, putting his hand on Zita’s, you will disappear and take our beautiful Zita, here, far away from me.  
— She will be free to choose, I am no tyrant ! Girolamo protested.  
— I know ! As well as I know that she will always choose you over me, throughout all of our lives. It’s only fair : it’s your version of us she loves.  
Girolamo pressed his lips together and moistened them, then turned to Zita :  
— You know I cannot love you that same way, don’t you, Zita ? he said softly.  
— I know, Count. No more than I can return Girolamo’s feelings. I would like to, but I cannot. She turned to Riario : I will be sad to leave you when we go, I swear, but you already know i will not stay.  
He nodded, closing his eyes as a message of understanding.  
— Which could happen sooner than you think , a warm voice said, rolling the words like the pearls of necklaces in a jewel box.  
They startled and turned to the visitor.  
— Al-Rahim ! Girolamo murmured.  
— Are you ready for a premature reunion, Count Riario ?  
— If you mean with Leonardo Da Vinci, I say yes. Yes, please !  
Girolamo sat down. This was so unexpected that he couldn’t trust his own exhausted body. Convalescence had been very short after all and the dreams had not allowed of a real good sleep.  
The magician tossed the coin. It started spinning at such high speed that you could hardly see it. Everything around them faded as in Leonardo’s sfumato technique, unsteady and blurred, until Leo, Zo and Sophia appeared.  
Girolamo leapt to his feet, heart racing :  
— Artista !  
— Count !“  
No expression more blissful than theirs could have been found in the whole world.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Riario had been right in saying that there was a huge difference between the knowledge you get from books and oral history and the crude reality of everyday life.—

« I’m coming too. I want to be part of this. »  
They all looked at Riario in surprise, except for Al-Rahim, who was wearing an ironic smile and nodding in approval. Of course, he had known all along !  
Girolamo was the first one to react to this :  
« Are you aware of what your decision implies ? You will be tied to the Sons of Mithras for the rest of your life, just as we are. It will mean abandoning your faith…  
— Did you cease to believe in God when you joined Da Vinci’s mission, Giro ? What you can do, I can do too, remember ?  
— Listen, Girolamo added, resting an arm on his shoulders, I know how hard it is for you to let Zita go but…  
— That’s not the only reason why I want to go, I hope you realize that much : I’ve always wanted to be part of something like this, always hoped I would do something beyond the ordinary. Besides, these are my times : I am aware that you all know quite a lot about history, but I, I was born in this world, back in 1400 actually, I know of details which history books or oral history might have omitted.  
— He has a point, there, Rio ! Leonardo concurred.  
Girolamo looked disappointed, even a bit sad :  
— I am so sorry to be the reason why you are trapped in this ! he whispered. Saving me may well be the biggest error you made in all your life !  
— Please, don’t take it away from me ! I am so proud that I was able to help you ! To my eyes, saving a life is a man’s most valuable achievement.  
Girolamo’s voice sounded more gravelly than ever :  
— Even that of one who took so many ?  
— Yes. Even yours. You cannot be reduced to your deeds, no individual can.  
— If you believe so …  
— I’m pretty sure you’ll come to see it from my point of view one day, Riario said, chaffing him a bit, after all, we are…  
— Don’t say it ! Al-Rahim, Leo and Girolamo shouted out, all together.  
As Riario was looking at them in puzzlement, wondering how such a short innocent word as “one“ could frighten them, Leo said, smiling :  
— We will explain it to you when you join us.  
Riario’s eyes and smile widened : Da Vinci had just let him in !  
— Oh shit ! Sophia murmured.  
— Are you sure you don’t have an axe to grind, here ? Zo whispered to his friend.  
— Shut up, Zo ! Leo said, grinning.  
Al-Rahim then granted them some time — to be honest, maybe he had some hidden agenda here :  
— I suspect you must all be eager to embrace… after all, you are essentially emotional individuals. So, I would advise you to do so before the coin stops ! he smiled ironically.  
Girolamo and Leo rushed, while the others stepped forward less hurriedly to embrace Zita and get acquainted with Riario.

After a long kiss, Girolamo turned to Zo and clasped him as well :  
— I am truly sorry for the way I behaved that morning, Zo.  
The tall guy was a bit taken aback by the friendly ways :  
— No way ! I am fucking sorry, Count ! You were just being playful, the way I often am myself ! I should have reacted otherwise… AND... accepted your kiss, he added good-humoredly : one should never underestimate what a kiss can trigger !  
Girolamo laughed out loud at this, which kind of stunned Riario :  
— You know, it’s the first time I hear the sound of your laughter.  
Girolamo turned to him :  
— I am just happy, Giro… Come, meet my Artista… So, Leo, how does it feel ?  
Riario bowed and smiled, Leo greeted him the same way, though he was feeling a bit uneasy :  
— Strange ! So very amazing ! Are you two really identical ?  
— No, Riario said in Girolamo’s very same husky voice, we are not. We do not share the same kind of familial background, see, so that has made us a bit different. Of course, we have an enormous lot in common, but if you put a sword or any other kind of blade in my hand, you will get a very disappointing kind of performance from me, I’m afraid.  
— Well, to quote you : one doesn’t resume oneself to one’s abilities or faults, so be welcome nevertheless, Count !  
— Er… to avoid any confusion, we’ve taken to calling ourselves Girolamo and Riario if you don’t mind. Only Zita calls me Girolamo or Giro. “Count“ remains… him ! he said, pointing at Girolamo.  
— Ha ! Leo laughed, all right then ! It will take us some time I guess, but we’ll get used to it. »

Al-Rahim warned them that the coin was about to come to a halt and that Zita and both Counts would have to meet with Leo, Zo and Sophia near Milano, at Corsico and more precisely at an inn called Travaglia, one week later.  
Leo and Girolamo kissed again, now with the quieter emotion of those who know the parting is not forever, dropping some love magic formulas in each-other’s ears.

Sophia still looked around her in unaltered disbelief : everyone, even her father, seemed at peace with this shameful exhibition, some even had an idiotic smile on their lips, as if witnessing an endearing scene !  
But she made no remark, knowing that this would again meet with some rebuff.  
Anyway, now that her own safety depended on them, she definitely had to learn how to temper her feelings and even shut them up.

***

Riario had been right in saying that there was a huge difference between the knowledge you get from books and oral history and the crude reality of everyday life. Leo, Zo and Sophia were now experiencing this first half of the century where Al-Rahim had sent them with the same feeling of awkwardness as the one you get when travelling abroad. 

For example, it was better to keep your opinions to yourself when you met people, because, though it had theoretically been solved in the fourteenth century, in some regions the quarrel between Guelphs and Ghibellines would still potentially bring about some serious argument and even fist-fights.

The attitude towards women was different too. Sophia had been insulted several times for straddling her horse the same way as Leo and Zo did, in complete disregard of the more decent side-saddle and for travelling with two men without a chaperon. 

Leo, though he had been aware of the issue, was nevertheless appalled at the rarity of books. They were all printed in Arab and the recourse to the sole technique of xylography could easily explain why they were so scarce. The printing press was yet to be invented ! Just imagine a world without books ! Hadn’t he made a promise not to interfere with the course of inventions, he would have set to work at once, to give these poor souls access to a much larger world !

Though he didn’t worry a bit about everything you got to eat being boiled, Leonardo could sympathise with Zo about the scarcity of roasted meat, most innkeepers indeed considering it easier as well as a time-gainer to cook everything in a broth.

So, yes, it was a bit hard to get used to the world of some forty years backwards. But to Leo, these petty inconveniences did not matter : he would soon be reunited with Girolamo and to him, this was the main benefit of the mission.  
If he had been asked to really speak the truth about his commitment to Sofia, he couldn’t but have confessed that he didn’t care less. She really had reached a point of no return. It was much more by respect of his own moral convictions that he would do everything in his power to save her life. Somehow, less on her behalf than in favour of his self esteem.  
Zo was a bit less adamant about it. Though he firmly condemned the shameful blackmail she had used against Leo, he knew what it was to feel neglected by someone you cared for and therefore could, to a certain degree, sympathize with her. It was a good thing too, for had Zo been as stubborn as Leo on that matter; the journey would have been a terrible bore, a tedious path somewhere between Purgatory and Hell.

But now, at last, they were riding through Milano, heading South towards Corsico and their rendezvous… They heard the San Gottardo bell chime the fourth hour of the afternoon. In less than half an hour they would be together again !


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A transition, just a step forward towards the real thing.  
> Our friends are on board of the ship between Genova and Cartagine. This brings back some souvenirs and reinforces the feeling that they are on the path to a discovery...

Leo and Girolamo were gazing at the sea with smiles on their faces and a sparkle to their eyes. Sailing towards new adventures but so much freer than the first time looked like a second chance or, better still, a new beginning. Although they were still looking for that “fucking Book of Leaves“ as Zo put it, there was less expectation, thus less chance for disappointment. Moreover, they were not leaving any obligation or carreer behind. They were their own masters.

Leonardo's readings at the San Bernardino Hospice had been useful: he had collected new clues about the Book and, remembering the different scriptures he had seen when Pope Sixtus had shown him the leaf in the Secret Archives, he had deduced they should look for it either in Cartagine or much farther still. There had indeed been some Coptic writing, some other runes and even some references to what looked like Zita's very own Ge’ez.

Zoroaster joined them on deck, he too seemed exited by the journey :  
« How did you persuade the captain to give us three cabins ? he asked, rubbing his hands.  
— Luck and gold, Girolamo smiled : four other passengers failed to show up, we bought back their passes and accommodations.  
— And a good thing for Sophia too ! Zo nodded.  
— Oh ! She’s grumbling again, is she ?  
Zo confirmed :  
— See, in some very private matters our neighbours aren’t what you would call silent.  
Girolamo laughed at this :  
— He’s desperately in love with her.  
— Well, if noisiness is the measure, I’d argue she’s fucking well enamoured too !  
Girolamo’s smile widened :  
— I hope she is, they deserve each-other : he’s a sensitive man, just the kind of man she needs.  
— It’s so amusing to hear you say such a thing about yourself ! Leo noted.  
— Hm… Although he somehow is me, I have seen none of my defaults in him : for instance, he doesn’t care losing at cards, while I go mad in the same circumstances…  
— Maybe he’s less passionate about his goals ? Leo suggested. You always strive for success.  
— Maybe… which doesn’t mean he’ll lack dedication, mind you, but his nature is of a quieter sort, I think… If not in sentimental matters from what you’re telling us, he concluded patting Zo’s shoulder.  
— You never told me... how did he cure you ? How was he the one to mend your broken skull ? Zo asked.  
— You’ll never believe this.  
— Try me !  
— Sophia bargained : if he accepted to kill Leo's father, who is now a young notary in Vinci, the magic of the Sons of Mithras would cure me. Zita intervened and revealed that this would mean my dying anyway, because Leo would not be born and therefore wouldn't be able to save my life. Then, Sophia insisted, promising some huge reward, but he refused, saying that he would never kill a man in vain. That was the right answer apparently, because I woke up from unconsciousness...  
Zo shuddered ostensibly :  
— Brrr…this gives me the shivers ! Is there any bloody limit to their power ? I mean, in this case, it was used to a good end, but what if they use it for evil deeds ? »

***

The pirates’ attack came as no surprise. They were numerous everywhere on the Mar Ligure and Mare Ponant, all along the coasts of Ifriqiya, where commerce was considerable. The ships armed by Genova watching over their boats and hunting down pirates used to guarantee frequent sea patrolling operations, but the pirates seemed to have spies and constantly somehow got intelligence from Genova, Corsica and Cartagine. They therefore knew where and when to attack.

The raid had been fierce, but Captain Christo Orlandi was an insightful and rich shipowner who had had the good idea to hire former workless soldiers as sailors . With Zo, Leo and Girolamo on board, his luck proved to equal his wiseness. The Spanish pirates were killed, pushed back or thrown overboard in no time. 

Though he was not proud about it, Girolamo was beaming. He had missed that kind of pitched battle and to be perfectly honest, the killing it implied. When he noticed that Zo was looking at him with a reproving glance, he confessed : « Yes, I’m still a predator… I’m afraid a leopard cannot change its spots, Zo. » The latter nodded his head in lack of understanding, thinking that “the bloody bastard“ he had known was still in there after all.  
Captain Orlandi was very pleased though and wanted them at his table that evening, the six of them.  
The two girls were not delighted with the perspective but agreed nonetheless, in light of the compliment or grateful expression such an invitation represented.

So, at eight, they all sat down at the Captain’s table, set with a pristine tablecloth, napkins and accessories that could have pleased a king.

« It’s not every day I have two Counts aboard, much less so when they are twins ! he declared, bowing to the Riarios, after everybody had been introduced.  
They thanked him and quickly changed the subject, both asking simultaneously :  
« Do you often have…  
They laughed at this and Girolamo signaled for his “elder“ to proceed with the conversation :  
— Do you often have to face this kind of pirate raid ? Riario asked, reaching out for his glass of wine.  
— Much less since Genova created the “navi armate da comun“ I must say.  
— How does it work ? Leo inquired.  
— Well, some independent shipowners equip their galleys with arms and soldiers to guard the coasts or commercial passages. In return, the commune pays them and both parts sign a contract to guarantee the initial agreement. My own choice of the men I recruit is an auxiliary precaution, as I told you, most of them used to be soldiers and show no enthusiasm for a quieter life as farmers or shopkeepers. They still need some action in their lives, some danger and opportunities to make use of their long-learned skills.  
— Yes, Girolamo concurred, it never fades away, your body is used to the challenge and keeps craving for the thrill such fights can provide.  
— Are you a soldier, Count Riario ?  
— Indeed, I used to be, but lately, I chose to travel instead… I want to discover more about our world before I grow old.  
— You still have plenty of time before that, but I agree with you, there are many many marvels to see… I always recommend a visit to Cartagine and Constantinople in the first place… Some are lucky enough to be able to visit Egypt as well, but I have never been there myself.  
Zo remembered just in time that Constantinople had not yet been invaded and changed the remark he had been about to make for a question :  
— What would you advise us to visit in Constantinople ?  
— The whole city is a jewel… I’ll give you the name of one of my friends who lives there, he will be too happy to guide you around and will tell you about the best places to eat and lodge.  
The man stood up to fetch some ink and paper from one of the drawers of his desk and wrote the information down, sticking out the tip of his tongue as he was doing this, just like children do when they concentrate on their writing. Then, he asked, hesitating :  
— Who is the leader of your expedition ? To whom should I hand the paper ?  
— Leonardo, Riario said, pointing at Leo, seated right in front of him, he is the initiator and the artist of our group… Art is culture, and it speaks all languages, wouldn’t you agree, Signor Orlandi ?  
— I would ! Wholeheartedly so !" the Captain nodded, turning to Leo and handing him the piece of paper.

The man was ecstatic about his guests and was already sure this evening would be one of the highlights of his whole life as a captain.  
His guests noticed this enthusiasm and seized the opportunity to keep the conversation alive and fruitful in terms of information and clues as to what was worth a detour.  
Constantinople was on all five timetravellers’ minds : to know that the city was a couple of years away from being taken and not to be able to reveal the news was a heartbreaking situation to be in.


	16. Chapter  16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fate of Constantinople is haunting everyone's mind.  
> But  
> Girolamo is still a god :-)  
> Leo still likes drawing  
> Zo is still a good friend  
> Sophia is still Sophia  
> and the Sons of Mithras are still spying on them all...

Anyone who had known Girolamo Riario before would have been convinced on seeing him right now that he had changed. While the Captain General of the Holy Roman Church would have stood straight, stiff as a mast, he was now leaning sideways against a column of the cabin he shared with Leo, playing with some nuts he had brought from the captain’s deckhouse, relaxed and dazzlingly attractive in the amazing display of light and shadow from the suspended oil lamps.

« You’re stunning ! Leo whispered, blinking, now mesmerized by the deft fingers.  
— Artista ! Girolamo softly reprehended, smiling mischievously.  
— Yes. No. Yes… I want to draw you.  
— But... You already did so !  
— Those were mere sketches. I need to paint you. First a thorough drawing… Undress ! Now !  
— Wait ! Could we first…  
— No, Rio… It’s the light, see ! The moment is now. Get out of those fucking obstructive clothes of yours !

When Leo resorted to gross language, it meant “time to comply“. So, Girolamo rolled his eyes but did as he demanded and began to undress… Only, he did so very slowly, just for the fun of teasing his companion :  
— How do you think about Constantinople ?  
— What now about Constantinople ? Leo asked curtly, lifting his head from his search for charcoal and paper in his bag.  
— Shouldn’t we warn them and Rome ?  
— Saying what ? “Look, we’ve got some news from the future and your city will be taken by the Turks in eighteen years“ ? Are you a candidate to the stake ? Because if we do so, they will have us burnt for sorcery, you know !  
— I know, Artista, it’s just that… doing nothing just seems criminal.  
— Christ, it kills me each time, you’re so… physically perfect !  
— Don’t be a fool. Get on with it, the nights at see are rather cold, if you only allow me to remind you of it… my dreamer.  
— Poor Ima… I keep seeing her disappointed expression in my dreams !  
— Your “Poor Ima“ nearly got us bled dry, the Count hissed.  
— For God’s sake do keep quiet a minute !  
— My nose itches. Even your glorious person cannot prevent that !  
Leo looked up, laughing :  
— It means someone wants to kiss you, don’t you know that ?  
— I wonder who that might be !  
— Not me. Me, I require much more from my models !  
— You ambitious rogue ! And how on earth can you draw in such poor lighting, by the way ?  
— My brains are connected directly to my hands, remember ? Fortunately, my fingers do not need my eyes to work with precision, because my piercing and caressing gaze is wandering all over you right now… can you feel it ? Oh… yes, indeed I see you can, my naughty Count !  
— Yes... and I want you. In truth, I’m ravenous now… » He dropped the pose and took two long steps to take Leo’s charcoal and paper away, get hold of him and kiss him hungrily.  
Leo smiled in his mouth, clinging to his gorgeous model as if some malevolent spirit was lurking, threatening to take him away.  
He would not allow that to ever happen.  
Never.

***

« Star-gazing was such a good idea, Zo… Just what I needed tonight ! Sophia said, breathing deep, watching beyond the sky itself, between the constellations.  
— I needed some fresh air myself. I was somehow hoping my ideas would clear up a bit after this… you know the sight tends to remind you of how tiny you are, how insignificant your decisions and actions.  
— What’s your problem ?  
— I’ve been wondering… are we really going to let all those people die in Constantinople, without even trying to warn them ?  
Sophia looked at him sideways. He was now gazing at the dark water and below, as if sounding for possibilities.  
— What could we do ? Maybe they wouldn’t believe us ! Are we supposed to know about the future, unless there’s some witchcraft behind the knowledge ?  
— I know. Seems fucking desperate, doesn’t it ? No solution… I mean, nothing safe. So… are we prepared to risk our own lives to save thousands ?  
— And this not even with any certainty that we would succeed in convincing them !  
— Yet, I’m not sure I could still be proud of myself after letting the horror go its way… I’m at a loss here. What if we let down our search of the damned Book of Leaves ? Will this really put your life at risk or is it just another of the Sons of Mithras' bloody cheats ? I’m not going to be the one to bet your life on that, Sophia. You can call me a coward but I will not make the decision.  
— But you will not disapprove if someone else makes it ?  
— I will not fight whoever thinks we should try something, I’m sorry.  
— Do not be ! My life is a mess anyway. I’ve been crying myself to sleep for months now… what kind of life do you think… Oh, by God ! Do you hear this ? They are at it again… It makes me sick. I hate them !  
She hammered the parapet with her fist, driving in each of the last three words.  
— Blunt truth is they are rather passionate. I knew Leo could be, but Riario… I do not recognize him, Zo whispered.  
— To dare use the name of our Lord at such moments, it’s worse still than blasphemy, there’s no word for it !  
Zo stayed silent for a while, hesitating, involuntarily leaving all the sound space to the sexy and smutty outcries from the nearby cabin and to Sophia’s painful and irate sighs. Then, he risked it :  
— I know it’s not the perfect moment, but I have to ask it once more : why does it make you so very furious, Sophia ?  
— I told you once already : I do not understand it ! I hate being incapable of catching the whys and hows of anything, it enrages me.  
— But… not everything has an explanation, has it ? I mean, we know the sun rises in the East, still don’t know why it is so, we know about the tides, we know we have to eat and drink to stay alive but still do not fathom the whole story behind the facts… At least I know more about Leo and the Count than about those mysteries, that's good enough. To tell you the truth, there even is some logic behind their being in love.  
— All right... Let's add that... he took him away from me.  
— Who took whom... ? Riario ? But, come on, no ! When was Leo ever yours ? For that matter, when was he ever mine ? We are... what does he call them again ? Oh yes : satellites. Haven't you learnt from the three months you spent with us in Florence, when he spent hours looking at and whispering to his bloody beloved pillar ? Sorry, girl but you got it wrong : there was understanding between you because of you similar natures, but you never HAD your brother, no more than Lucrezia or Riario. Girolamo never took him away from you. You simply do not take Leonardo, he only allows himself to be taken, and from what I know, only just for some time.  
— So you think they will break up ? the girl asked, eager and hopeful.  
— The later the better, if you ask me. »

***

Just as Zo and Sophia were having this conversation, the great men of Mithras had gathered nearby the San Miniato al Monte basilica. Al-Rahim, Cosimo de’ Medici, Solomon Ogbai and Avraham Ben Yosef were looking down at the sleeping city and facing all the issues resulting from the very inopportune current time travel Al-Rahim's coin had made possible.  
They too were worrying about Constantinople, if with quite an opposite approach of the problem. The Sons of Mithras wanted the Ottoman Empire to take the Byzantine City — at last, after so many attempts !  
They knew how much more far advanced the Ottomans were in all fields of science and put their hopes in their conquests to give progress a significant push.  
The endeavours of the Roman Church to keep the development of scientific advances slow and secret were an insult to enlightenment and to the whole humankind and the Sons of Mithras sometimes lost hope when they saw what a grip the Church still had on a vast majority of people, even and foremost among the educated ones.  
It seemed perfectly logical to the Sons of Mithras that the most open-minded man in Italy was an atheist. He was therefore the one they should and could recruit. One day, Da Vinci would be their weapon. 

But for the time being, he had to be persuaded that trying to save Constantinople was a waste of time and energy. He mustn't be given the opportunity to use his vast knowledge and ability in favour of Constantinople.  
To hoping that the search for the Book of Leaves would be a sufficient lure !

« Could you get in touch with our present-day Riario ? Cosimo de’ Medici asked. I’m sure he will see eye to eye with us. He’s an educated sensible young man, he will have a full understanding of what’s at stakes.  
— Even if it means abandoning a Christian City ? Solomon Ogbai asked, frowning, doubtful.  
— The boy is a free mind, Al-Rahim stated, I do not believe religion will be of any weigh in his appreciation of the matter. But I should prefer to let him spend some more time in Da Vinci’s company to strengthen this trait of his.  
— Despite what is awaiting you in Otranto you seem to give Da Vinci much credit ! Cosimo remarked.  
— Or precisely because of what will happen… May I remind you that his device will defeat a very powerful Ottoman army ? His appreciation of the Sons of Mithras may have changed, but his love for progress and science as well as his ability to reinforce or change his friends’ opinions remain the same. Some opposition, however, could come from the former Captain General of Rome. His belief is still strong, he went so far as to kill his father to cleanse the Church, after all.  
— Once the Labyrinth had got hold of him, he was irremediably bound to lose his sanity, Avraham declared.  
Al-Rahim shook his head and grimaced in uncertainty :  
— That remains to be seen… He resisted the conditioning and it would seem that the philtre Francesco Della Rovere gave him daily at the San’Angelo had the opposite effect to what he expected... But the man is still in the process of recovery, he's still unstable material.  
— So... how about meeting again later ? Cosimo suggested. When they have visited Cartagine, for example ?  
— I agree… Meanwhile, I shall have visited Riario and seen where he stands concerning Constantinople. » Al-Rahim announced.

They left in their very uncommon way, and only a fleeting orange haze was left to signal they had been here.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our friends have reached Cartagine and visit some shops.  
> Riario purchases a booklet that contains some surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter because I had to do some research... Sorry for this.

The four scoundrels who had been looking for a fight with Leo, Zo and Girolamo in the narrow dusty street close to the harbour of Cartagine scattered suddenly. The three men turned around, wondering what could have scared their assaillants so effectively. They burst out laughing : there he was , coming out of a shabby bookshop, Riario, wearing an innocent smile, amused at their reaction :

« What ? he asked.

— You scared those men to death ! Leo chuckled, sheathing his blade.

Riario straightened up, pretending to feel proud :

— And why would you think I’m wearing such fearful weaponry ? He came closer, patted Leo’s shoulder and put a hand in Girolamo’s back. I told you : I’m close to clumsy with arms, my only defense rests on my disguise. People fear black or at least are impressed bu it and my sword and dagger induce them to think I’m a skilled and fierce fighter ! he concluded, on a fake threatening tone.

— That’s clever ! Zo congratulated.

— Well, I do not know how clever it is, but see ! it works ! I’m very rarely attacked.

— Did you find anything interesting in there ? Girolamo asked.

— Not much… He opened the thin book he had purchased : a translation of runes and other signs to Latin it would seem.

He was looking a bit anxious.

— That could be useful, brother ! the Count smiled.

— Where is Zita ?

Girolamo reassured him and pointed to an opening in the row of houses :

— She and Sophia are buying some bread and cheese right over there. Come, let’s join them, I fear they might forget some of us do like eating some meat."

Zo and Leo were left behind, observing the street they were in, one of those spreading from the port in the form of a quadrant, like a lady’s fan.

On their taking leave, Captain Orlandi had offered them a rough but helpful map of Caratagine : « I envy you, he had confessed : savor the opportunity, young men, for one day, before you even notice, you’ll be old and married and bent under the weight of responsibilities ! » Like most elder men, he believed that youth was a guarantee of a carefree and idle path. They didn’t contradict, but instead thanked him for his welcome and the enjoyable conversations at his table.

« I’ve seen this sign before and rather recently, Zo remarked, searching in his memory, pointing at a rune in the book Riario had just bought. Leo came closer :

— You’re damn right ! We’ve been seeing it every day since we joined Riario : it’s none other than the badge on his uniform !

— What do you think it represents ?

— His father is a legal adviser to Cardinal Cesarini in Rome… Could it be the arms of his family ?

— No ! The Riarios have a flower on yellow and blue on their coat of arms.

— The palm tree, I know… I meant the Cardinal’s escutcheon… But we’ll know soon enough. There, back they are ! Jeez ! They must have raided the shop ! Just look at them ! Leo exclaimed with wide eyes.

— Hey ! Next we’re going to need a mule to carry all that food ! Zo teased.

— Well, maybe you won’t believe it, Zo, but the most voluminous articles are for il signor Da Vinci ! Girolamo declared. Dried meat and sausages are nothing in terms of volume, compared to bread and fruit !

— We’ve got eight wine-skins as well ! Zita added, brandishing those precious articles.

She was radiant, patently delighted to be part of this expedition.

« Could it be that Riario is making her happy, after all ? » Zo thought.

As for Leo, he couldn’t but notice Sophia’s posture in comparison : sad face, arms crossed, carrying nothing else than her mistrust and resentment, which, to be fair, seemed much heavier the burdens the others had picked.

They loaded their mounts and set off in a file for the Byrsa hill. Girolamo took the lead, the two girls followed immediately.

The next day, they would visit the other Roman ruins, but today there was just enough time left to choose a convenient spot among the ruins of the citadel to light a fire and prepare for an evening and a night under the stars.

***

« It’s “Mannaz“ — **ᛗ** — and “Tiwaz“— **ᛏ** —associated in one diagram. Riario explained. Mannaz, he said, drawing the symbol in the dust on a stone, stands for humanity as a whole. It’s not an individual, not a particular man, but mankind. In a human being, the divine and terrestrial are united. It symbolises a great faith in what a man can achieve… He drew the other symbol in the dust with his index : Tiwaz stands for justice, responsibility, war and sacrifice. Tyr was a god of war who sacrificed his hand to a wolf to help capture the beast. Once the animal was caught, it tore off the hand. The symbol thus means stoicism, absence of fear in fight and defense of just causes.

— I guess the arrow is also a spear ? Leo asked.

— Most probably, but Tyr was also the god who presided at the _ping_ , the general assemblies of German cultures, which means that the rune also alludes to positive and passive regulations, a bit in the way our weighing scale does.

— Are you telling us you belong to some kind of sect ? Girolamo asked, his voice trembling a little.

— Of course not ! Riario frowned. My mother is of Nordic origins, these are the ancient gods of her nation. You can want to learn about other gods without worshipping them, you know : all those people studying ancient Egypt do not worship Ra or Bastet ! To my knowing, this symbol doesn’t even exist as such, it’s just a pictural association we like because of its symbolism : justice and mankind… Wearing the symbol on my jacket is much more a token of the love and respect I feel for my mother than a manifestation of interest in the old norse mythology to be honest.

— It's more a kind of bond between you, then ? Zo suggested.

— Yes. That is closer to the truth.

— But... If it's a creation, how come Zo found exactly the same symbol in the book you purchased this afternoon ? Leo wondered.

— Can you show me ? Maybe someone had the same idea a long time ago... I told you, the pagan belief dates back more than seven centuries, it would not be surprising if somebody had had the same inspiration after all.

Leo handed the book to him, opened at the right page :

— Here, see ?

— Wait a minute... It's not just that symbol... As a matter of fact, all symbols here are combinations of the original runes !

— Could it be a language, then ?

— Closer to a code... See, normally the runes are used in the same way as our Latin letters, one after the other. Not one into another, in the manner of monograms !

— And do you know the meaning of each separate rune ? Zita asked.

— I do… It was a kind of game when I was a child, a bit like when you are using tarots, Zo, it's divinatory art. We used to pick stones from a bag with runes painted on them to try and see what the day would bring. We did this for the fun, mostly when my father had been insufferable, to cheer ourselves up.

— That will be your homework for tomorrow then, brother, Girolamo laughed, giving him a punch on the arm : reading from the booklet of mysterious runes and strange scriptures.

— Thanks for nothing, really !" Riario sighed, faking a sulk.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's something special in the air... Leo is sleepwalking and seeing some strange, possibly unpleasant things...  
> Zo is being a bit curious but Zita doesn't mind.

Though the night was pitch black, Leo’s steps were assured. He was making his way through the ruins as if the path was lighted, marked out. There was a sweet smell in the air, a mixed scent of sun heated stones and jasmine, something fresh but in the same time sharp.

To his right, a man clad in black wearing a badge, the white cross of the church. He smiled at him, the man smiled in return. A falcon was standing on his shoulder, the bird was looking at Leo in a strange way, with something human about his gaze.  
To Leo's left, a huge dog… or rather a wolf, walking like a man, on two legs. « Look at your hand, it growled, you cut it off !   
Leo obeyed and saw no hand to his right arm :  
— I know… I wanted to try the magic coin on my wound to see if it would heal it... instead, it got infected.  
— That was a silly thing to do : the coin is no longer in your favour, you killed its proprietor, the beast scolded.  
— Things are not what they seem, Girolamo cut in.  
— How do you mean, Rio ?  
— They need us, they are no longer the enemies of man.  
Instinctively, Leonardo hurried a bit to be able to turn around and face him, look at him and check his eyes. They were too large, black and moist.  
— We are one." Girolamo added.  
Leo was feeling his heart beat faster, too quickly, on his ribcage, he was about to scream, to let out the distress that was now suffocating… 

But then, the whole surrounding changed.

There was a rosy haze rising from the ground on each side of them. Right in front, stone stairs which they started to descend, the wolf leading the way, Girolamo behind. A generous lighting was coming up the stairs, as if to meet them and draw them to some place below.

« Wake up, Da Vinci ! Al-Rahim cried out. You are sleepwalking ! »  
Leo woke up to find he was now in some kind of temple, facing a statue he knew all too well. There were sculpted corinthian columns on each side, the air smelled of thyme, mint and sage and the place was agreeably warm.  
The two Riarios were already seated opposite the magician, both in their human forms.

« So, here you are again ! Leo sighed bitterly.  
— You subscribed to an agreement, remember ?  
The r’s were rolling like pebbles under the waves."This too is part of the mesmeric effect", Leo thought.  
— What do you want from us ? Girolamo asked.  
— I want you to forget any plan about warning Constantinople. It would only bring about trouble and misery to all of you. If they, per chance, happened to believe you, it would change the conclusion of the battle in Otranto. If they did not, they would imprison you and most probably burn you for sorcery.  
— I smell a rat, here : You die in Otranto and your friends are defeated, why would you wish to let this happen ?  
— This is not a small game of hide and seek, Count. My personal fate has no significance : history cannot, must not be handled with such carelessness.  
— Yet, you told us both that history was a lie, didn't you ? Then, what does it matter if you bend it a bit ? Leo argued.  
— All our efforts go in the sense of promoting progress, don't you see ? If we lose you in Constantinople, we might never find you again, you might never be born at all ! Or... Count Girolamo Riario might never see the light of day either, which would, if you escape execution in Constantinople, deprive us of the dynamics between the two of you : you, Leonardo, would probably not feel the same pleasure in any other rivalry and would not be so enthusiastic about defeating the Roman tactics... see ? You may not even discover your genius !  
— Do you mean we are each determined by the other ?  
— Yes. I thought this much was obvious by now ! Had you not met, Girolamo Riario would have followed his father blindly, clinging till his death to his misplaced trust and faith, while you, for lack of exhilarating perspectives might have drunk yourself to oblivion... One doesn't progress or even survive with unfinished paintings, Da Vinci.  
— Surely, I would have found another incentive...  
— Are you demeaning your nemesis, now, Leonardo ? Let me warn you that by doing so, you humble yourself ! A weak opponent only needs a weak conqueror..."  
Leonardo failed to find a satisfactory answer to this. He could see the truth in these words. Besides, pretending that he would have made his way without Girolamo's irritating challenges would indeed be offending in addition to being untrue...

He woke up rather abruptly to Riario’s voice asking him and Girolamo if they too had made the same very strange dream of Al-Rahim.  
" It was not a dream, he heard the Count answer, we have been contacted by the Sons of Mithras.  
— I'm the lucky one then, Leo remarked, still a bit dizzy from the whole thing, I had both the dream AND the meeting, because to my knowing, you are not a werewolf, Riario, and you, Rio, you no longer wear your Captain General uniform ! »

He preferred not to mention the allusion to the Labyrinth Girolamo had made in his dream, still much less so the mad, dark, glowing eyes.

***

In the morning, the three of them were fast asleep when Zo and Zita woke up. This was unusual and they supposed they had not found sleep soon enough. They tried to unpack the cheese, fruit and bread in silence and only whispered when addressing each-other.  
Sophia was a bit further downhill, apparently gazing at the sea, muttering indistinct words.

« Tell me, Zita, Zo asked, maybe you’ll think I’m being indiscreet here, but I’ve been wondering ever since… when we were on the road to Sen Remei and you had that accident, why did you ask the Count not to be too kind to you ?  
— Ah, that ! she smiled. Well, I had been scared to death when I fell and fear had brought back other feelings to the surface, see. I knew that comforting words would break down the barrage holding back the tears and sobs I had inside me for so long. I did not want to be another source of trouble to my master... He had endured so much already !  
— But... you too. Surely he knew this. Proof is he told you himself you had the right to feel miserable ! Zo hesitated… Or was it... was it because part of your grievance came from your feelings for him ?  
She interrupted her unpacking to ponder about this :  
— Not really. I did not have to reveal that part of the problem, so that's not what was worrying me... It's rather that I had not realized yet how much he had changed and expected him to be irritated. The past Count Riario would have been. Not because he did not sympathize, mind you, but precisely because he would not have known how to deal with his own feelings.  
— If he had any !  
— Oh, he did have feelings, you know, but he had learnt to discipline and conceal them... The only feeling he could never quite hide from me was anger. I have seen him mad about many things, from the most trivial to the most significant ones. That, he never quite succeeded in concealing. Anger had built up inside him from an early age, because of the ill treatments. When you cannot rebel, it's just like the sadness in me, it grows to excess.  
— And... How is Riario different to our Count ?  
She laughed :  
— He yields only to few of the restraints my master believes are essential : touching people, speaking his mind boldly, self-mockery or naivety are not shameful to his opinion... He may even see them as virtues.  
— You seem to like him a lot ! Zo smiled.  
She got back to unpacking the food :  
— I do. But whereas I would die for my Count, I would not make such sacrifice for Girolamo and he knows it." 

As Sophia was now coming back, they started babbling about the meal.

" I could eat a whole mule ! Riario exclaimed as he was getting up and stretching unashamedly.  
— I'm afraid we don't have any, Giro, Zo said, though we happen to have some donkey salami.  
Riario grimaced and decided :  
— All things considered, I'll be satisfied with some cheese ! »


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They seem to be on the right track... only, maybe, not with the right persons ?

They knew they were on the right path when the indications Sophia had given proved correct.   
She found the engraved symbols on a stone : Venus, a sword and a crown. All three represented the third grade in the hierarchy of the Sons of Mithras, that of the warrior. 

They were all thankful to the inhabitants of Cartagine for the meager interest they seemed to nourish towards their own history. Had they been more eager to explore and exploit it, the stone would by now have been carried away, with an eye on some lucrative exchange. The ransacking of antique Egyptian tombs all too often attested to the predominance of greed over respect.

" What on earth put you on the track, Sophia ? Zo asked.  
— A man. This morning, as I was gazing at the sea, a soldier appeared to me, half naked, wearing an armour and a red cape. He was holding a helmet in his arm. He said he had been born here, in Cartagine, and had been haunting these ruins for centuries. He was there, he told me, when the symbols were sculpted in the stone... He added that, once we will have found the symbols, we should be looking for a cave end send one of us there. Then, there will be a riddle or a test which will deliver an important clue. To quote him, we must choose our emissary wisely or, better still, wait until the man himself feels drawn to the mission, predestined, so to say, "called" to it.  
— Still more riddles ! Zo sighed. Just like in the good old days of the Vault of Heaven ! How about it were another bloody lure ? And what if we go again risking our lives several times, only to find out that the fucking book is not there after all ?  
— I'm afraid we don't have any other choice, Zo, Leo muttered while drawing the symbols in his drawing book with great accuracy, if we want to spare Sophia a horrible fate, we have to find it !  
— Maybe we could even find more clues around here ? Girolamo suggested, looking at the ruins all around him.  
The stones were already white-hot under the sun and you could almost imagine them splitting, fracturing and hear their pain. He shuddered nevertheless, from some kind of apprehension. The dream of the preceding night had left an unwholesome sensation that, although it was less disturbing than this morning, kept clinging to his thoughts.  
— If you are ready, let's go back to Giro, we'll find some shade and eat and talk about the next step, he proposed.  
— I wonder if the runes have brought up anything significant, Zita said, and if the various clues coming from different periods of time can concur... Unless it's a trick. After all, they who hold the Book of Leaves may want to lead us astray ?  
— You're thinking about Sophia's apparition ? Girolamo asked.  
— Yes, but not only that : if that man has been haunting the ruins for centuries and saw the symbols being carved, he may well come from an earlier time than the one when the cult started to spread.  
— And if Giro's runes are tied to our quest, maybe they go back earlier still... who knows ? Chronology is blurred by the time-travel faculties of those damned Sons of Mithras !" he added.

***

All were bending over Riario’s shoulder as he was deciphering :   
« We’ve got a sign for lasting partnership, this one, here. This, he pointed at another sign, means a danger of evil magic interfering with our search, but on the other hand, you’ve got this here which means quick results and promotion of healing. He went on, showing each particular combination of runes : exposure to ill-will, a boost to self-esteem, safe journey, divine energy, interference of past and future alike. They do not tell anything specific about the Sons of Mithras or the Book of Leaves, but that’s the case with most divinatory interpretations, they remain on the level of general statements.   
— Anyway, tell me how completely supernatural it would have been if the first book we bought happened to refer to our own experience ! Sophia scoffed... You're sitting in my place, she snarled on coming closer to where Girolamo had sat down.  
He looked up at her in disbelief :  
— Are you for real ?  
— I sit between Zo and Leo each and every day, don't pretend you do not know.  
He laughed :  
— As if any of us paid attention to such triviality ! Grow up, child !  
She did not move, remained right in front of him, arms crossed on her chest, stony look, tightened lips.   
He cut a pomegranate in two and bit in it while still looking her straight in the eyes.   
— I won't go away, you know, she threatened, I'll keep watching you eat until you give me back MY place.  
He didn't reply, just kept staring, smiling, challenging.  
Then, suddenly, she produced a knife and bent forward to stab him. However, he had always been quick as lightning and grabbed at her throat with one iron hand before she could even realize it.   
— Back off, crawling harridan ! he said, squeezing tighter as he was getting up. I'll kill the malevolent bitch in you before you can take another breath !  
Zo recognized the awoken monster by his reddening and glassy eyes, he jumped up to catch his right arm :  
— Don't, Count ! Remember who you are ! You're no longer... that. Seeing no change whatsoever in the Count's grasp or gaze, he shouted : for fuck's sake, Girolamo, let her go !  
Girolamo turned his gaze to him at last and released Sophia, who immediately raised her armed hand again, roaring :  
— You filthy lunatic son of a bitch, I'll...   
Zo slapped her, caught hold of her collar, pulled her back violently and snatched the blade from her :  
— Shut up, vixen ! Go and calm down far away from us for some time. Are you out of your mind ? Threatening people for a place to sit ?  
— I...  
— Quiet, I said. And I know it's not about a place, it's all about ownership of your brother, about who he's going to love best... Well, here's some sad news for you, wench : it won't be the harpy you've just let out ! Off with you, we all need some fresh air ! »

Sophia left them. They all sat down, appalled, and remained silent for a long time. 

So, it seemed the former Riario was not quite dead after all ! 

(Next will be checking for any presence of the Labyrinth around, then.) Leo thought.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A storm, a game, a crucial decision.

Then the sky changed drastically and slowly pulled a blanket of heavy, lead-coloured clouds over its marine-blue gown. The white or ocre stones turned to grey and dark hazel.  
Then, far away, our travelers heard the first grumble of menacing thunder.  
They hurried further south in the ruins of the ancient city and discovered a shelter, the remains of a house which time had covered with sand, weeds and numerous fragments of nearby splintered columns.

Zo and Leo started to dig a larger entry in the sand, where a window or a door had been, just enough for them to crawl inside the tiny house.  
Leo went in first, followed by Zita, while Zo was still widening the opening from the outside.  
« There may be a whole village down here, all around. Leo commented. I hope some day in the future the will feel the need to discover it !  
— Look over there, behind you… I think I can see some jars and bowls. Am I right ? Zo said, squinting his eyes.  
Leo took a gunflint and a small torch from his bag and lit it up. Then, he rummaged through the jars and bowls Zo had spotted, sniffed at one of the jars and grinned :  
— Oh, I love this ! Olive oil : we are going to give this place quite a nice look. Zita, could you hold the torch a moment ? I promise you a show of light and shadows you will appreciate ! »  
She took the torch and lowered it so as to give him enough light. He found undamaged bowls and saucers, poured some oil into each, fixed segments of a string inside them, then lit them up.

Zita was looking at it all in amazement. His gestures were precise and brisk and it had taken him no time to know how to steady the improvised wick by making a notch in the containers.   
Now this very unsophisticated interior almost looked comfortable… although, of couse, it was not. She told him so.  
« See, he answered with conviction, this is the magic of light coupled with imagination : a ruin can become a palace if you only put the right measure of fantasy into it ! »

Zo was now helping Sophia through the narrow window, feet first.  
« Pass me the sacks next, she said, once she stood inside the shelter, we don’t want them all wet and it’s a matter of seconds before it starts raining. »  
He did so and then, Riario and Girolamo followed, though nobody could have told in what order. Riario had swapped his black attire for more convenient clothes — black breeches and loose dark grey shirt — belonging to his “twin“.

The firs flash of lightning and heavy drops of rain were heard just as Girolamo touched the ground inside. combing his hair with spread fingers. He looked around, smiled in satisfaction and clapped his hands :  
« Well… Here we are ! Back in the good old days in… “Vespuccia“ ! Though you definitely made it far more welcoming, Artista, I’ll give you that.  
Then they heard some scolding :  
— Is anybody going to help me through, or am I to keep out of your bloody very own little paradise ?  
— Shit ! Zo ! We forget you my friend ! Girolamo exclaimed on turning around to give him a hand.  
— See ! Zo grunted with effort, this is NOT the New World : you would never have called me “friend“ back then, Your Highness !  
— Indeed ! the Count laughed with a facetious wink. I suppose things have changed for the better, then.   
Zo patted his shoulder and he too looked around at the improvised oil lamps Leo had placed as judiciously as possible.  
— Reminds me of the Barking Dog : a bit rough, but friendly atmosphere. Well done, friend !  
— Let’s play a game ! Riario proposed as he was sitting down cross-legged, his back against the wall. The others followed suit, in circle, around the fake campfire of assembled oil-lamps. Leo, do you happen to have enough paper with you ?  
— Plenty of it, actually, as usual, Zo teased. Right, Leo ?  
— Yes. on a journey like this one, you never know how many inspiring sceneries and things you might come across !  
— A pencil ?  
— A couple of them as a matter of fact.  
— Good ! Here is how it works : one of us will think of a character, real or fictional, then write their name down on a piece of paper.  
— Each of us will be expected to choose a character ? Zita asked.  
— Yes, but one at a time… I’ll give you an example : let’s say I pick Cosimo de ‘ Medici… I write his name down and ask the person sitting to my right to sit with his back to us all. So, in this case, Girolamo will turn around and I’ll attach the piece of paper with Cosimo’s name on it to his shirt, so that HE cannot read it. Then, he must ask us questions that will help him find out who he is supposed to be. One question to each of us, in turn.  
— How many attempts will I have ? Girolamo inquired.  
— Let’s say twenty, which makes four rounds. One round more will be granted if the character is harder to guess. I’ll begin, for a first try. Zita, Leo is going to give you some paper and a pencil and you pick a person or character.  
He got up to sit down again, but this time with his back towards the center of the room. Zita had already made a decision and fixed the piece of paper to his collar with a hairpin. She couldn’t help kissing his lips before sitting back and Zo teased her :  
— No cheating, young girl ! I’m sure you had the name on the tip of your tongue !  
— That’s why I kept the kiss chaste, Zo ! she laughed. For fear he would steal it. »

Riario was now the Queen of Sheba and the game was thus launched.   
Soon, some laughter, protests and jokes enhanced by pretty generous booze (Leo considering that each win should be dutifully rewarded) covered the angry sounds of thunder, lightning and pouring rain.   
It was not often you could witness such a deluge in Cartagine !

***

In the morning, the manner they had assembled for the night was eloquent : a couple, Zita and Riario — lying face to face in a tight embrace, then three men — Zo holding Leo holding Girolamo, and one angry, broken-hearted girl - curled up opposite to them, at bay, as if one of the other five was likely to assault her some time soon.  
No scene could have better translated the state of their relationship.

Sophia knew she was a burden and was not so stupid as to ignore that the present ostracism was of her own doing.  
However, she couldn’t help it, as irrational as it may be, the more the others befriended both Riarios, the more she hated those two.  
The stupid childish game of last night had been intended to tie the bond more tightly, but for her it had not helped in the least. The more so when loving whispers and sighs of repose and pleasure had inopportunely filtered through the treacherous fading roars of thunder.

They woke up one after the other with the same surprised and silly content looks on their faces and the early whispers soon grew a bit louder, until everyone was ready for the banale and matter-of-fact breakfast chat.  
And all the while, as always, she was keeping silent, wondering if there would ever come an end to this farce.

Then, someone, she couldn't tell who, mentioned the cave they were supposed to discover and Riario cleared his throat, then bluntly stated :  
" I will be your emissary. Let me be your ambassador.  
— But, Giro... Girolamo protested.  
— Please, brother, let me do it ! See, I have always been a coward, I never dared face anything special or just a bit dangerous. I wish to try this, I need to grow some self-respect and I hope to achieve this by helping you.  
Zita's usual exasperatingly sweet expression suddenly cracked like a mirror and Sophia saw her holding her breath.  
— Giro, Leo intervened, I have been through the mad trials the Sons of Mithras can invent, I would warn you against it. I know that desperate eagerness to challenge oneself, believe me, I know how it feels, but if you succeed, you nevertheless end up ruining a part of yourself you may rather soon come to mourn.  
— You mean the carelessness, the naive enthusiasm, the lust for life ?  
Leo was clearly surprised :  
— Oh, you've been thinking it over thoroughly, it would seem.  
— Yes. I may sound ingenuous most of the time, however, I can assure you I have never lost sight of the human nature and men's deepest deliberations. I read a lot, I meet many, many people from all kinds of backgrounds on a regular basis. Most confide in me, I suppose they must feel I appreciate their trust. I have known some badly broken-minded individuals and spent more time than many reflecting about their problems. I know I have to risk this, I need the test more than you could imagine.  
— Tell me you are not doing this to spare one of us ! Zo asked, while absentmindedly drawing a rune in the sand with a thin stick.  
— Only in a small measure. In truth, it's more like wanting to do my share, play some part in this quest... But my motivation is more selfish, I'm afraid.  
— I fear or you ! Zita could at last whisper in a shaky and weak voice.  
— Then, tell yourself that if I happened to succeed, I would be the proudest man on earth. You want me to be happy, don't you ? he added, stroking her black glossy hair.  
— Of course I do, my sweet prince !"  
(Berk ! That disgusting fluffy pantomime !) Sophia thought, literally feeling nauseous.

They kept silent for a long time and she could see they were genuinely worrying a lot.  
What made people care that much about strangers ?  
Why had she cared so much about Lucrezia from the beginning ?

Only two days later, they found the access to the sacred cave of Mithras.  
Riario went down the stairs, secretly filled with terror, but knowing this was a now-or-never situation.  
His companions looked as he disappeared under yet another stack of stones, feeling a rope of apprehension tightening around their hearts.  
They had not known him for a long time, but in their thoughts, he was already “my friend“.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We all feel so insignificant and fragile sometimes... So do our protagonists.

« So they picked YOU out as a sacrificial lamb ! Al-Rahim grinned contemptuously.  
— I proposed myself, Giro corrected. They tried to hold me back but I needed to know what kind of man I could become.  
— That will be arranged, believe me ! If you prove yourself, if you are clever and strong enough, you will be more than a man, Count Riario.  
Giro stared at him, fearlessly, even a bit daring :  
— Being a man in every meaning of the concept seems to me close enough to perfection. I do not wish for more, since more does not exist !  
The magician looked him in the eyes more intently. He had not yet ever met with anyone not desiring to be more… This prompted the first test :  
— Would you not wish for immortality or power ?  
— Immortality seems more like a curse than a gift : I do not want to see all the ones I love die one after the other for centuries. This is in fact the cruelest side to life… As for power, those who possess it tend to want more still and become therefore cruel, dangerous and frustrated, in one word, despicable beings.  
— Are you well aware, nevertheless, that if you succeed and leave with the most important clue of this quest you will, wether you wish it or not, become powerful and almost immortal ? Are you ready to accept it ?  
— My friends wish to save Leonardo’s sister, your daughter, and I want to help them reach this goal.  
— Then, your second challenge starts now, brother Riario.  
— Second ? Surely, you must be mis…  
— You passed the first test successfully. Now, go to that door. He pointed to an old battered door, the panels of which were abraded, discoloured and nearly falling apart. Be watchful and logical ! » Al-Rahim added. Then, he disappeared, fading gradually, like some retinal persistence, after blinking a couple of times.

Riario took another look around him at the usual columns, altars and statue, then stepped bravely towards the door, purposeful, though still rather apprehensive. He knew that fear would be a constant companion throughout this experience anyway, so it was better to tolerate it than vainly try to obliterate it.  
He opened the door, stepped in and was instantly suffocated by terrible acrid grey fumes full of ammonia. Seized by a coughing fit, tears in his eyes, he couldn’t at first distinguish what exactly stood in front of him, so close that it was hiding the whole place from him. It looked like a heavy, purple curtain.   
But once he had blinked the tears away, the unbelievable reality was worse than anything his imagination could have created. It was a gigantic human figure.

At first, he only saw a hand, the size of a knight’s shield, enormous ! Then, he looked up and met with a face looking down on him with a both vengeful and scornful expression.  
Sweaty, open-mouthed and dizzy, he recognized that face.   
A voice he knew all too well thundered : « I knew you would never be worth a florin ! You left for Florence, never came back, and now this ! You are such a disappointing scum ! »  
Be watchful and logical, Al-Rahim had reminded him. Well, now was the perfect time to put this into practice : this could not be his father, so, what was it ?   
An illusion meant to torment him.  
He would not allow this to happen.

***

On seeing how worried his companions were, the once Captain General took charge of everyone’s occupations — to the exception of Sophia's, whom he preferably ignored as much as possible.  
He asked Zo to go to Cartagine and purchase a shovel, as well as some rugs and blankets to make their shelter more comfortable.   
Leo and Zita, meanwhile, were asked to go further north. They had heard of a village inhabited by older people, a place almost forgotten, no longer able to meet with the demands of the younger generations. « Those old ones, you know, they don’t even realize canons, candles and spectacles have been invented ! » a man had told them mockingly. This, of course, was untrue, but the fact remained that the older people were, the more they had stories to tell — the more time too they could spend to tell them. The two “spies“ would prick their ears and discretely inquire, in search of any information somehow correlated with their quest.  
Girolamo would stay here to dig down the entrance they had used so as to give the place a proper door. One of the plates Zo and Leo had found would serve as a spade to achieve this, pending the return of Zo with the appropriate tool.  
Zo volunteered his help, however Girolamo argued that he badly needed some physical exertion— « for a host of reasons » .

So they parted.   
In Leo’s case, a bit reluctantly though, because he had not liked the tone of the latter comment. « A host of reasons » seemed to open the door to a whole bunch of unpleasant possibilities.   
Was Rio again feeling unworthy, like back in the days when he pretended he had failed his religion ? This must never be excluded.   
Was he more anxious than all of them about Riario’s fate ? Possibly. After all, the man was to him, and very rightfully so, the closest to a brother and had even saved his life !   
Or, worse still in Leo’s opinion, maybe the influence of the Labyrinth’s conditioning was back and possibly gaining ground due to doubt and the tenseness it never failed to engender ? And on this particular point, Leo deplored, Sophia’s antagonism was definitely not helping !

Zita was in no mood for inconsequent small talk either, so that they walked all the way up to the isolated village without a word. Two hours of reflexion, most of the time among ruins where history had marked its everlasting ruthless and blind course.  
Thousands and thousands of creatures had once felt the same way as the two of them right now : nervous, worried and helpless. But what did history care ? Leo and Zita knew their true importance : just as those long forgotten souls they were nothing but seconds, lost in a millenium.

***

« You’re nothing, Girolamo Riario. You’re just an ant in a long, long file. If your precious books have not taught you that much yet, well it’s how I have always said : they serve nothing. Your sole purpose lies in the service of the colony. And what have you achieved ? What share have you ever had in promoting society ? None whatsoever ! What will you plead in your defense, I wonder ?  
— I feel no need to plead to you. You are a fake. Even in reality you are just another of those paper figurines, making a lot of noise and talking a lot more hot air still, all for nothing else than forever repeating the scheme that was taught to you. I do not reason with the void, so let me through and spare yourself the humiliation of being run through by my sharp disinterest.“

The giant apparition did not move, however, so Riario put his words into practice and just walked straight through it, unaffected and, as Zo would word it, “cold as fish on marble“.  
If he ever met his father again, he would remember how small he really was in comparison to this monster he had so soon ceased to fear. 

He then followed an endless pass between the high walls of what apparently used to be the underground cages and cells of a Roman amphitheater. He heard the first far away roar only minutes later. The cold of fear started running slowly down his spine, while sweat covered his brow, then his whole body.  
Without even a weapon, what was he to do against something or someone fierce ? He looked up and down all around him on his way to the first real fight of and for his life.  
The nasty smell of the place, the draught along the stone corridors and the growing cries of menace would not so long ago have sufficed to make him faint.  
But that was before, before he met his new family and Zita.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of Girolamo and a bit of Zo...

« Brother Girolamo !  
He was startled at first and dropped his fake shovel. But as the man went on, he recognized the voice and turned, frowning, to face him.  
— Let me congratulate you for the good work you did in Rome !  
— I do not need your approval, Father, you just made me mad enough so I could find the proper dose of fierceness in me to kill the Pope. For this, I may feel thankful to you, but otherwise, you just poisoned me and lead me astray for quite a while I must say.  
The man had not changed, he was looking at Girolamo with the same pretendedly benevolent smile. The Count added :  
— But since then, I have learned what true generosity and friendship are like and I know it cannot be found inside your sect.  
— Oh ! You have lost your faith, my boy ! the man exclaimed, shocked, even appalled. He was shaking his head in disappointment, now with an expression of pity. He put out a hand, Girolamo stepped back and growled :  
— Do not even try to touch me !  
— Very well, don't overreact, son. It seems to me your precious friendship has not brought along much serenity, though : you are acting like an angry dog. You used to be much more composed when you belonged to the Labyrinth !  
— I suggest you replace “composed“ with “tame“.  
— Anyway... the story of your escape from the Sant Angelo made our brothers quite proud, you know. You are now serving as a role model among our aspirants.  
— How very sad for you ! To hoping they will escape you soon enough, the Count smiled in irony.  
— Da Vinci's religion is catching I see. Beware of false gods, son, for it takes a strength very few possess to face life with only free will to sustain you and nourish your spirit and you will not find that fortitude in the deviant behaviour you seem to have made yours.  
Girolamo put his hands on his hips and laughed :  
— Oh, I see ! That's what's irking you, isn't it ?  
The benevolent and empathetic gaze instantly turned into an almost caricatural grimace of mixed wrath and contempt.  
— What pains me, my poor boy, is to see you lose yourself in a maze of frivolous pursuits orchestrated by the Sons of Mithras.  
— Oh, can you smell it too ? I can suddenly identify that subtle mouldy stench of rivalry all about you... But rest assured, my new religion forbids any kind of blind obedience, I have not joined and will not ever join your archenemies. The Sons of Mithras are just as despicable as The Enemies of Man.  
— You foolish, arrogant creature ! Don't you see that by engaging in this quest you are precisely stepping into their circle ?  
— Everything all right ? a worried voice called out at that moment.  
— Ah ! Zo ! Yes, everything's fine, my friend. Father Asterion was saying he cannot stay much longer.  
Zo came closer, looking the visitor up and down in mistrust. The black robe he had spotted from afar had immediately aroused a sensation of threat in him. The look on the old man's face only confirmed his feeling : he was angry. No, more than that : the ice-cold kind of furious. He let the spade, rugs and sheets down on a nearby stone and crossed his arms on his chest, then nodded in a more defiant than courteous way.  
The Architect did not respond but turned back to Girolamo instead :  
— See ! You deserved other associations, Count Riario. With us, you used to be God's avenging angel... I'm afraid the fall is now irremediable.  
— Keep on deceiving yourself, Father, meanwhile, I intend to go on on the path I should have chosen years ago.  
The intruder nodded his head briskly and turned his back to them without another sign or word.  
Zo came and put an arm across the Count’s shoulders :  
— Old acquaintance ?  
— Just a ghost from a distant, passed nightmare, Girolamo answered, composed, just still a bit surprised that he once saw any chance of salvation in that man's theatrical acting.  
— I've bought some k'hawah on the way, I never tasted it... Care for a mug, Your Highness ?  
Girolamo shot him a bright smile :  
— I believe it requires some boiling water though, doesn't it ?  
— And that's also why I bought a small cauldron and picked up some vine wood on the way ! Zo smiled back, with a friendly hit of his fist at the Count's shoulder. Clever me ! "

Girolamo felt his heart knock one or two extra beats and his throat tighten. To think that he had once felt nothing but scorn for that man !  
Then, he realized that Zo had come back alone.  
" Did you drown Sophia in some patch of water on the way ?  
— No, Zo laughed while arranging a small campfire, she told me she had once again spotted her mysterious man in shining armour, she left me to check if he had anything else to reveal... Maybe she's falling in love at last ?  
— Hm ! Bad luck again ! I suppose that being in love with an imaginary man must be quite frustrating.  
— Who knows ? It might help her grasp the concept after all ? She really doesn't get it, you know, it's not simply a manner of speaking, she just fails to understand. The crazy heartbeats, weak legs, rushing blood and the rest.... these are just words for her, she has never experienced the feeling. Trying to explain is like expecting a toddler to understand “it burns“... How could he know when he has never gone through it ?  
— So she apparently confides in you...  
— My doing... I've been trying to depict it to her, hoping it would help her drop her fucking resentment. But to no avail !  
Girolamo was watching him work, resting for a while sat with his back against a higher stone :  
— One thing's for sure, I shall never be able to change my opinion of her like I did regarding you, even if she were to become a saint of sorts. There's something tainted about her mentally, a touch of slyness I never felt in you.  
— Whereas I once did in you Zo whispered, letting his task aside for a little while. I thought you were a sly, highly dangerous hypocrite.  
— Oh but I was ! Girolamo concurred, grinning on seeing his embarrassment.  
— Maybe, but I exaggerated it, see... Remember the lama episode of the sacred mountain ? I told Leo you felt the need to walk the passage first, after his scorpio-machine, as an attempt to steal his merit from him. Only... Well, you never intended to, did you ? You just wanted to risk it to prove you trusted Leo's judgement and skills. Am I right ?  
— Yes... I also wanted to do my share, just as Giro did when he decided to be our emissary.  
— See ? I only saw what I wanted to see.  
— And I behave in the same way. I'm really happy we are now on good terms, Zo, it feels so much better to have a friend like you !  
Zo went back to assembling the vine wood :  
— Same for me... even if I'm still a bit pissed you felt the need to cast your bloody spell on Leo ! he teased. Of all the appetizing guys you must have met, why precisely MY Leo ? When you could have had, I don't know... say Giuliano.  
— Huh ! Giuliano.... Giuliano de'Medici ? Zo, you're mocking me.  
— Or even Lorenzo for that matter. They were both wicked handsome !  
— And outrageously addicted to women, that must not have escaped you ? But this is idle talk, you know it too well : nothing compares to Leonardo, he said, playfully overemphatic.  
— No, indeed. He's so very unique, it's a sin ! Speaking of sin... He looked up at Girolamo but changed his mind... No, that won't do. Forget it.  
— What ? his friend insisted with a canny smile.  
— No, it's much too soon, we're not on that level of familiarity yet.  
— Just go for it, we'll see !  
— Yeah right, and you will hate me for asking. No, thanks !  
— Come on, Zo. If I do not feel like answering, I'll just say so and basta !  
Zo's face was now downright carmine red. Not even daring to look up at him again, he kept arranging a fire that had long been ready for its purpose :  
— You... Leo once mentioned your killing your mother on your father's orders... he said your mind had been split at that moment...  
— Hm... Yes. So ?  
— Was your father violent towards you ?  
— He was towards pretty much everybody, wasn’t he ? So, the answer is yes.  
— He hit you ?  
— He did… Or had his guards do it, provided it left no permanent or suspicious scars. He counted on my looks to attract people to his cause.  
— Wh… Why didn’t you leave ?  
— Hm... How can I explain it… I think your father abandoned you, am I correct ?  
— Yes. The son of a bitch was a noble, he never cared to see me or even inquire about me.  
— Good… I mean… “good“ as in “we are on similar tracks here“. Imagine he changed his mind when you were still a child, came to you and told you he was going to make a strong, honorable and educated man out of you, a man whom he would be proud to call his son. Try to see it with the eyes of a child… Would you have accepted, been thankful and tried to live up to the picture he had on his mind ?  
Zo was thinking about it honestly and frowning :  
— I think I would have given it a try, yes, he concluded… But maybe only for a while though.  
— And that is when faith trapped me in the long run : I ended up mixing up my father, the Pope, with God himself, to the point where I firmly believed I was the one at fault, not worthy of the chance I had been given, forever endeavouring to amend myself, to succeed in each and every task he would give me, hoping that one day I would hear the magic words in his mouth.  
— That he was proud of you ! Zo suggested.  
— Ha ! Yes ! Of course, they never came. The first look of respect I got from an adult to another came from my soldiers, but I was their superior so it did not prove anything. Somehow, they were bound to show me some reverence. No, the very first sign of attention and appreciation came from my enemy of the moment, Leonardo. I had been loved or feared before, but outside the army, never looked at as an equal, respectable man. I know, because he has told me so since, that he was even a bit shocked when Lorenzo called me a snake in public.  
— Shit ! I had never seen it from that angle ! I have always thought it was, at first, only a game to you, some kind of playful rivalry, but nothing really serious, see.  
— Well, that’s nevertheless back then I started to contemplate another form of religion ! Girolamo laughed.  
— So, young Nico was right after all ! He pretty soon guessed you were honest about your respect for the maestro. Clever bloke !  
— Where is he now, I wonder ?  
— Still in Naples, I guess, healing the scars.  
— A nasty trick too the Signorina Moschella played on him if you ask me. I feel sad for my once pupil in arms.  
— You know, I cannot blame Vanessa : it was either abandoning him or leaving her child to Lorenzo’s care. She had to stay in Florence.  
— Hm ! And just look at the two of us and the mess you leave behind when you desert your sons ! the bitter-sweet Count smiled.  
— What ? No ! Zo protested loudly. Abandon your offspring right now and see the brilliant, strong rascals you get out of it ! They can even light a fire and prepare the most exotic drink you can fathom ! »  
They both laughed at this, with an added feeling of being more alive and closer to each-other than before this conversation.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Giro meets the beast, Leo and Zita collect some encouraging information...

He had seen that thing before : the body of a bull, head of a lion but human face. Ugly as it already was in a drawing, under its living form it was nothing short of dead-scary.

Giro tightened his grip on the bar he had found along the way. A three-foot long piece of metal he presumed had belonged to one of the ancient cells he had walked past.  
The illusion was now complete : here he stood, shivering, feeling like an aspiring gladiator ready — or rather not ? — to face his very first beast.  
He chose to look it right in the eyes, thinking this must be the fitting tactics, waiting for that thing to move first.  
And as if its ugliness and the colossal strength you could deduce from the impressive muscles were not enough, the horror reached a peak when it opened its mouth to speak with the voice of the young man's mother ! 

"You lost your way, it started repeating. You won't get out of here, my boy."

On and on it went, without a blank, winding around of his brains like a mantra. Very soon, his head was spinning, as some kind of dizziness and paralysis were gaining ground.

"You lost your way. You won't get out of here, my boy."

Giro knew that unless he made the first move, he would soon be caught like a fly in a cobweb, petrified by his mother's eyes and voice.  
An image of Medusa jumped to his mind. With the utmost difficulty, he averted his eyes from the monster's gaze. It growled louder, in anger at this.

"You lost your way. You won't get out of here, my boy." it resumed, on the same dull tone of voice.

In spite of this, Giro took a couple of steps towards his dreadful adversary. Sweat was dropping from his brow into his eyes, the salt in it burning and he thought of the terrible pain Leo and Girolamo must have gone through under the cruel conditioning by the Labyrinth.  
This gave him some more strength. He ignored the trembling of his hands, the mad beating of his heart and the weakness in his legs and went on.

"You lost your way. You won't get out of here, my boy."

Now, he could smell the beast : the brutal relent of decaying flesh, revolting ; the acrid scent of hair and skin...  
If the monster truly was an animal, maybe he could have a slight chance to deceit it. If, however, there was a superior brain in that creature, he was sure to die, for he could think of no cleverer ruse than the the one he had in mind.

"You lost your way. You won't get out of here, my boy."

Never had he ever felt that small and frail. The closer he glided, the taller the bull seemed.  
Very unexpectedly, he thought of and saw one of the combined runes in the booklet : the Sowilo assembled with the Berkano — force and reincarnation.

"You lost your way. You won't get out of here, my boy."

He looked up and stared into the beast's eyes again, then fell slackly, hoping for the bull to come closer.  
It did, curious, not understanding.  
Giro put all the energy he could summon into the next move, piercing the bull's belly with his iron bar. Then, swiftly, he rolled aside, jumped onto the back of the monster and stabbed it once again fiercely between its shoulders.  
His hands were bleeding, but he could not yet feel the pain as he kept holding on to his precious improvised weapon, now firmly fixed into the hard neck muscles.

"You lost your way. You won't get out of... You lost your way... You lost..."

(Hold on ! Don't let go !)

"You lost your... way. You..."

And it stopped an fell like a mountain would collapse, in a big “whoarmb“ !  
As he was relaxing and letting out a long sigh of relief, the corridor suddenly lighted up, and there it was, hanging in the air, golden, the whole height and width of the passage : the scene of a man riding a bull, stabbing its back...

And now he knew where he had seen it before : it was the tails side of Al-Rahim's magic coin ! 

***

The old man took a drag of the flavoured and perfumed mixture in his hookah, then invited Leo to have a try at it, which, of course, he couldn’t refuse. Never expect an inquisitive man like him to turn his back on new experiences. He rather liked this one, with similar, though not quite identical effects to the much stronger opium he used to smoke in the past.

Mehmed was wearing a grey caftan and had a black turban on his head. He was fluent in Italian, he explained, because his father had wanted him to study several languages, with an eye on a future career as a diplomat. However, the course of things was interrupted when his father died prematurely and Mehmed had to drop his studies to come back to Cartagine and look after his whole family.  
But he was a learned man and particularly keen on history. As it happened, he had collected and noted down quite a lot of anecdotes and narratives people had once told him.  
« See me as a bank safe, only, it’s not money or precious objects they entrust me with, but stories… Preferably, curious or memorable ones. So, yes, I have heard about the Book of Leaves and even devoted a whole notebook to it. The most recent news date back eighteen months… One evening, a man in a black uniform came knocking on my door. He was feverish, nervy, obviously scared. He swore he had something very important to tell me before being caught and killed by the sectarian brotherhood on his tracks….  
— Did he mention the name of his enemies ? Leo asked.  
— No. He insisted they were very powerful and, though living in anonymity, very numerous as well. He told me he had got possession of the Book of Leaves in Sicily and was on his way to his birthplace where he would hide it from the terrifying pursuers. He ardently tried to convince me that one day, a man of valour would discover it and use its immense powers advisedly and would maybe look me up for guidance. To allow that man to do so, he himself would hide it from the malevolent men who were trying to find it and use it to their own petty benefit.  
— Did he tell you where he was intending to hide it ?  
— Not with any kind of precision : he told me he was born in Corsica, though, on the coast facing the Elba Island.  
Leo frowned, thoughtful :  
— Which would put us back in our own footsteps, only this time, homeward ! Would you happen to have any other significant clue concerning the Book, Mehmed ?  
— Well, one traveller told me that his aim was to destroy the magical book… He said science in itself was a valuable thing, but could be a curse if used wrongly. That man did not trust some of his fellowmen, who, he said, could want more power and wealth to the point of killing thousands to acquire them.  
— Do you remember what he looked like ?  
— I do : he was rather tall, with a very dark skin… just as your slave, here.  
Leo threw a look of apology to Zita for not putting it right… Maybe the old man was not yet ready to hear that a young woman travelling alone with a man could be something else than a servant or a slave.  
— Solomon Ogbai… does this name evoke anything to you ?  
— No… But he did not tell me his name, so, who knows ? Most of the time, I press the witnesses to decline their identity, but with sensitive issues, such as the Book you are looking for, I only meet with refusal or threat to keep the information secret.  
— I see… Well, if you do not think of anything else on the matter, we are going to leave you, Mehmed : I’m very thankful for your welcome and help.  
— Won’t you eat with us, though ?  
— Your house smells very inviting to be honest, but our friends will be worrying a lot if we don’t get back in time, Leo smiled on getting up.  
— Don't forget to appreciate that, young man : friends who worry for you are very worth preserving !  
— I know ! I agree ! » Leo smiled.

They took leave with a notion they had not been losing their time.  
All along the way back, they talked of nothing else than the information Mehmed had shared and the plans that must be made if the book was indeed in Corsica.  
If the information Giro gained corroborated this, they would call it a huge step forward !


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Girolamo twins and love...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit hard, a bit sweet, that's how they are, isn't it ?  
> That's how I love them. I hope you'll enjoy.

He did not know how much time had elapsed since he had entered the cave and met Al-Rahim. Time had no meaning whatsoever here and he was beginning to understand what “Time is a river“ meant, even more so than when Sophia had called him to the rescue of his other self.  
Back then, he had thought of it as some kind of foolish fantasy, a dream, yet while being awake. He was a dreamer, it happened to him quite often, so he had not been that much surprised.

Here, he knew that time must be passing, since he had already met that ridiculous impersonation of his father and fought the bull of Mithras. Yet, he was not hungry, or even thirsty. It was as if those experiences had occurred in the same lapse of time, like superposed moments. Had he just entered the temple then ? Or, had he been here for a couple of days without his even knowing or feeling it ?  
There was no way he could measure time : no noise, no daylight, only the same quiet whisper of his own blood in his ears and the occasional rustle of his footsteps.

Yes, this was like a circular river : whatever he did, he kept coming back to the very same spot in time. That had to be it !

After this for him very unusual fight, he realized he didn’t feel the least tired. He had sat down, not to rebuild his forces, but just to think it over and be prepared for any new sign that would come to him. The golden immaterial image of the bull's death had faded. 

He thought of Zita. What was she doing right now ? How was she feeling ? He relied on Girolamo’s tender friendship for her to keep her mind busy, away from the dangers she must imagine him facing. He would know how to support her.  
Would she follow her master after this journey, as she had once promised, or was there still a chance he could make her stay ? 

He had never been in love, not like this. He had once met his Beatrice, but, unlike Dante, had soon realized that there was no reality in that endearment. Love was heart and mind, yes, but also flesh. Nothing could equal the moment when you and your lover practically fainted in each-other’s arms from the pleasure you had received and given. There was fusion there, loss of identity in favour of some other, larger, stronger, almost immortal entity. It was cruelly and exquisitely unique, that feeling of dying and being born at the same time. It was transcendental. 

How religion could negate it instead of using the universally known sensation as a way to make people understand the rise to a higher degree of self-realization was a mystery to him. There, they had this most common physical experience at hand to illustrate what spiritual ascent would feel like and they kept negating it, hiding it away for fear it might be discovered ?  
That was so stupid that there had to be something…

But a voice interrupted his meditation. It said : « Time-traveler, I am here to show you the future. Open your eyes and pay close attention to what you are now going to witness. This is the future of Constantinople… watch ! »

Suddenly there were cries, explosions everywhere. He was at the foot of the great fortification around the Byzantine City. This was unheard chaos…

***

Girolamo and Zo had seen it coming from the start : Leo had come back from his visit at the village with a frown betokening a troubled and possibly angry mood. This surprised them to a higher degree yet once he had told them of the useful information they had got from Mehmed.

What they couldn’t have predicted, on the other hand, was the sudden direct charge against the Count, right after that positive account of the meeting :

« Have you ever visited this place before, Count ? He asked in a suave yet distrustful tone of voice, looking him right in the eyes for the first time since their return.  
The tone leaving no space for doubt, Girolamo was at first shocked, immediately defensive :  
— Why, yes, a couple of times : I came here on a diplomatic mission once and on another occasion with my cousin, Giovanni. Why ask ?  
— Who really gave you the key ? Leo asked in the same voice, not caring to give an answer to Girolamo’s question first.  
— The… Which one ?  
— As if there were many in our common story ! Don’t try winning yourself more time in order to come up with another of those nice tales of yours !  
— Leo ! Zo protested.  
— Shut up, Zo ! So ? How did you really first get the key I once stole away from you ? He repeated, starting to pace around the small shelter.  
Unfortunately, Girolamo did not at all look innocent : he kept his gaze away, thoughtfully fixed on something he only could see, eyelashes fluttering and lips tightened.  
— Let me help, Leo spurred, coming to a halt right in front of the suspect… see, the third time we met, you betrayed yourself : you said a man had once told you that history was a lie… Rings a bell ? You got the key from Al-Rahim, just admit it ! You did not take it away from your predecessor in Forli, you got it in the most direct manner there was, right from the Sons of Mithras !  
— So what ? Girolamo exclaimed angrily. How does this make me a suspect of anything ? It was Solomon Ogbaï who gave it to me and who first revealed the existence of the Book of Leaves.  
— Were you around here eighteen months ago ?  
Girolamo got up too :  
— You very well know where I was eighteen months ago : we were both trying to convince your Florentine friends of the necessity of a crusade !  
— No ! I mean eighteen months ago in THIS era, Count, eighteen months ago here and now, in 1435 !  
— Ha ! Did that Mehmed of yours receive you in his yard and exposed you both too long to this god-dammed burning sun ?  
— Mockery will not spare you an answer… You once belonged to both the Sons of Mithras and the Labyrinth and one of those two fraternities gave you the power to navigate the river of time !  
— You’ve gone mad, my dear Leo ! Girolamo forcibly chuckled. I cannot figure where or whom you got your delirious notion from, but I can assure you I am not going to listen to this one minute longer ! I rejected both cults if you care to apply you overheated mind to remembering that much. So, take it or leave it, but I, I have had enough of this ! I'm out !  
However, Leonardo pushed him back as he was passing him by on his way to the door :  
— You are not ! Not before I receive a proper answer !  
The Count raised his voice in anger :  
— There is no such thing as a proper answer, for God’s sake ! There is no sensible explanation to your insane speculation ! It-comes-out-of-thin-air ! Now move !  
Leo kept facing him ostentatiously , arms crossed, face set :  
— Make me !  
— Don’t you even tempt me !  
His gaze was changing. Just one more poke and he, the other, would be back, from deep inside, Leo saw. Would he really go berserk or was he now strong enough to resist the urge to kill ? He had to be sure of this. He hated himself for it, but he simply could not leave this stone unturned. So, there he stood, provoking the man he loved more than anyone on earth, just for the sake of daring to confront the truth.  
The knife materialized on his throat with a hiss, reflecting the light of the nearest oil-lamp. Girolamo’s eyes were glassy and deep black :  
— I will not give you the opportunity to prove yourself right, my love, he grumbled : the man holding the blade now knows who he is and whom he wants to kill or spare. And now you’ve got your answer ! »

He sheathed his knife and rushed out, abandoning Leo to the outcries and — essentially — snarky comments of his companions.

***

« Will you ever really trust me ? »  
Leonardo had followed, very shortly after Girolamo had rushed out. He had found him further up the ruins field, sitting on a stone, seemingly quiet... More probably downhearted. He felt a stab to his heart on seeing how hard Rio could still feel the blows when he was the one to give them.  
« Will you ever really trust me ? he asked in a broken voice.  
Leo put a hand on his shoulder :  
— I do, Moonlight. I just needed to face the answer your reaction would give me. You know me by now, I left my impetuosity among the ruins of Otranto… Now, I only build on bedrock, I always have to be down sure before going any further in anything. Never leave any shadow of a doubt behind.  
— I do not trust myself regarding your sister, I warn you and you already guessed that much… but you, Artista ! How could you still imagine that I would be able to harm you ?  
— I also had to find out the truth about the way you got the key. The story of a man in a black uniform knocking on Mehmed’s door unsettled me, I thought of you and remembered that bravado of our third meeting… History is a lie. Who had told you that ? Surely it could not be pure coincidence.  
— Yes, I lied to you. I had met Solomon Ogbaï two years earlier. He said that he had been looking for me because two men were needed to use both keys and we were the perfect match — in his own words ! Girolamo smiled, still a bit bitter… Could I have told you so before ? No ! Just imagine your reaction to such a sweet and rose-flavoured confession, back in the days when we were still rivals !  
Leo was looking at him intently, not trying to hide his desire, but deliberately not making the first move :  
— Please, do kiss me now, Rio ! Let me know you forgive me for that cruel examination ! Go for it, do not be tender or sweet, take revenge in love... I need some bruises and bites tonight… I need some pain.  
Girolamo grabbed him and kissed him hard :  
— Then you shall have it, Artista ! »


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zita loses something precious, Giro too — though he also finds something he's not yet accustomed to.

Breakfast was usually a quiet moment together, when they gathered like a proper family. They never said much, they were all just pondering about the dreams they had made or what may lay ahead today.   
The last two days, their very first thoughts had been for Giro of course. This would be the third day since he had left ; to them, time would again pass much too slowly 

Sophia, however, was thinking of something else, more of the stranger she had seen here the day before than on Giro’s fate. She had seen the bite marks on Leo’s neck and the reddened skin around his wrists, which seemed to defy her, like an ostentatious claim to ownership from the Count. So, she had been waiting for some time for an opportunity to tackle the subject.   
When Zita, scrabbling about for something in her saddlebag took some immediately disregarded objects out of it — a brush, a pair of gloves and her prayer book. Sophia grabbed the moment with a bit too much satisfaction :

« Did you tell Leo about that man’s visit yesterday ? she asked Girolamo, with her eyes still on Zita’s missal.  
He looked swiftly at Zo, who smiled back at him knowingly.  
— The fact is your brother and I couldn’t be bothered by such trivialities. He was far too busy working towards my relaxation and I was enjoying it too much for me to interrupt the exercise vainly.  
— I never asked for a salacious report of your night ! she snapped.  
— Neither did we ask for your duplicitous interest, Leo cut in. Your disapproval is lingering on, Sophia. He turned to Girolamo with a smile : who was it, Rio ?  
— Father Asterion, the Architect… He wanted me back. No need to say I made it clear that I do not have the least interest in his or the Sons of Mithras’ factions. But it’s undeniable, they are hovering around us like vultures. »

Zita, meanwhile, was still rummaging in her bag. Her expression had changed, her chin was quivering, her hands trembling with nervousness…  
" Zita ! Girolamo said gently. For God’s sake what have you lost, girl ?  
She burst out crying so hard that her mouth was twisted and her words were only just comprehensible. She moaned :  
— He gave me a locket with his portrait ! I… I cannot find it ! I’ve been scouring that cursed bag the whole night !  
She covered her face with both hands, Zo took her by the shoulders :  
— You will find it ! And if you’ve really lost it, then he will have another one made all for you… I’m sure he won’t resent that !  
— He ‘ll think I don’t care enough… Oh ! I’m so furious at myself, you couldn’t know !  
— We can, Leo said, and listen, let me be frank : though it’s heartbreaking to see you like this, I’m glad you are taking it to heart. You seem to care for him so much that this must be closer to love than you at first imagined. Tell me I’m wrong !  
Sophia had enough of such overemotional babble already, she got up quickly with a loud sigh and left the house.  
They did not even pay attention, they were now watching Zita more closely, waiting for an answer.  
— I… I don’t know… Yes, my feelings are deeper anchored and there’s a warmth for him in my heart that was not there before, but…   
— He will be back, Zita. Girolamo comforted. I know he will be back, I can feel it, and then, when our journey will come to an end, you will know for sure how you feel about him... Long journeys tend to reveal a lot about affections. »

***

The noise, the crowd brushing you by, the stench of rotting corpses of both humans and horses, this all was hell as Giro had imagined it… only, a much more real version of inferno.  
Suddenly, he recognized a man they were carrying away from the battlefield on a stretcher : it was none other than his Genovese cousin, Giovanni Giustiniani.  
He had been watching the condottiere fight, but had been too far away to identify him.   
To Giro, he was a eighteen-year-old boy, eager to court young ladies and to join the army, just like his father, brother to Giro’s mother.

And there he was, or would be in 1453 Constantinople : thirty-six years and dying !   
Giro’s heart sank as the man, though in great pain, attempted a smile at him with the greatest amazement in his eyes. Of course, he was stunned ! The boy knew Girolamo had no taste or disposition for warfare or battle, so what was he doing here ? And why was he looking so young ?

However, the small group soon disappeared, in a hurry to take their deathly wounded captain to a safer place.

« If this is supposed to prevent me from warning Constantinople against this siege, well it was utterly miscalculated ! » he thought.  
Of course, he was feeling more inclined yet to try and change the course of history !  
Unless… What about the Sons of Mithras being testing his resolve ? Why show him his dying cousin if not to taunt him, see how far they could reach to make him fail his promise ? And whom would he be more loyal to ? His own family or his fiends and their quest ?  
Sophia’s life was at stake, but what was she to him ? For that matter, what exactly was she to his companions ?  
But this, he realized, was not the right question. Even if she was not much appreciated, to say the least, a human life was still a human life, no matter what it was worth to you and he knew that his friends too saw the dilemma in the same light. She was under the threat of a horrible death and all of them were willing to save her from such a fate.  
So, even if it had to be at the cost of his cousin’s life, he would stick to his word, there would be no warning Constantinople.

With no transition, he was snatched back to here and today, whatever "today" might be.  
No time to ease up on tension: the next moment, he spotted a dark silhouette from the corner of his eyes. He turned to his right to face it : a man in very strange attire - short sleeves and very tight thick breeches — was holding some rectangular device high up and muttering what sounded like angry, vulgar words.  
Giro was flabbergasted :   
« For God’s sake ! Wh…Which version of… us… are you ? he stuttered, addressing the man.  
The man, in his turn, noticed him. His mouth fell open :  
— There’s… there’s no signal at all down here, he said in a blank voice, not even knowing what he was saying. Who the hell are you ?  
— I am you… Girolamo Riario… one of the fifteenth-century versions.  
The man roared a untuned laugh :  
— Yeah right ! Just stop the booze, pal !  
— I’m not drunk, if that's what you mean and I think you are being a bit rude, which is rather out of character, if you ask me !  
— What the fuck are you talking about ? You cannot be me ! Is this some kind of silly trick to entertain tourists ?   
— Tourists ? How do you spell that ? You speak so… such a weird kind of Italian !  
The man came closer and patted Giro's shoulder in a most familiar way then jumped backwards in fright :  
— Bloody hell ! No ! I thought you were some kind of hologram, but… Holy cow ! You’re alive !  
— Are you demented ? Of course, I’m alive… and I will not have you call me a cow !  
The guy was dazed and drew back to lean with his back against the wall :  
— Could you please explain this all more clearly ? » he mumbled, trying to detach each word.

After his deplorable incursion in Constantinople, Giro felt a bit weary at the idea of having to tell the whole story to his obviously slower self, but who knows, maybe it was his patience that was being tested this time ?


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming home — good news; bad news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was particularly tricky to write because it would demand a deftness with the language I'm afraid I do not possess.  
> I can just cross fingers and hope I have not made the whole crucial scene sound hilarious.
> 
> More than ever, I shall welcome any editing you may consider desirable ! ;-)

It took Giro one more day to complete the test session. He had been spending the whole time in conversation with twenty-first-century Girolamo who, all things considered, turned out to be more interesting than it first appeared. He was not slow, as Giro had suspected, just disorientated about this extraordinary experience .

Even with the entire day to them, they couldn't go into particulars. Too much had occurred in all domains, in just a bit less than five centuries. Some things induced Giro to regret he had not been born in the the twentieth century, mostly so the progress in terms of medicine (to consider you could be operated on under anesthesia !) or education (schooling in your mother tongue for everyone!).   
Regarding other aspects, however, he declared himself quite satisfied with the present-day way of life, for his other self seemed to carry much on his shoulders for one man : it appeared that what he called “new technologies“ put more pressure on him instead of alleviating his burden.

Then, once that strangely dressed Girolamo had told the most important piece of news, he got up and held out his right hand.   
On seeing Giro’s puzzlement at this, he explained : « Oh, right ! This is not yet part of your social conventions, is it ? In our century we shake hands when we meet or leave, as a sign of good will or sympathy… Though lately, many friends seem to prefer a hug.  
— Oh ! I do too ! Giro said, enthusiastic, opening up his arms.  
— You are definitely a more emotional version of us ! Girolamo gently laughed, taking a step closer nevertheless.  
— Thank you for spending so much time with me ! Giro whispered, a bit sad to see him go.  
— You’re welcome, brother ! Take care… Live long and prosper ! » He added with an odd hand-sign and a smile.

And then, he was out.

And so was Giro !

Suddenly he was outside, blinded by the fierce sunlight. He looked down and recognized the stairs he had used to meet with Al-Rahim.  
He walked them up.  
He was free and safe ! Against all odds, it seemed he had passed the examination ! How about that ?

***

Zo and Leo had made up a campfire and three gorgeous lizards were being roasted over it on a device Leo had built two days earlier in expectation of the much hoped for return.

It had been such a relief to see him approaching from afar ! « Zita ! He's back ! » Girolamo had shouted out in a joyful but shaky voice.  
Ignoring the heat, she had left behind the shirt she was “sand-washing“ in the fashion of her ancestors and run to meet him, Girolamo following far behind in order to allow them some time for a proper, soulful reunion.  
Leo and Zo had come next, blessing just anything there was to bless for such a climactic twist. They had not said so aloud of course, but they had really feared the worst for a man who had readily confessed he lacked any courage.

And there he was ! So proud now ! Not at all in a conceited way, rather somehow more assured, reconciled with himself.

They did not rush him, they let him take time, at the pace he would choose, not daring to ask the question they had in mind, namely : what was the crucial clue Sophia's mysterious warrior had promised he would win if he passed Al-Rahim's test ?

The sun had long set, they had savoured the bread, meat and cheese meal and drunk the wine Zo had bought in town the day before, when he looked around at them, in silence, with a facetious grin on his lips. Then, he declared :  
« I know what you are ardently expecting from me. I can only give you part of the answer, which sounds : yes, I do have the key to the mystery of the Book of Leaves, but no, I cannot share it with you. From now on, I am only a safeguard, the one who will double-check your conclusions before presenting them to the Sons of Mithras. You, brother, and you, Leo, will have to find the answers. Only once you have solved the puzzle will they consider it as a success and remove the threat to Sophia. From now on, I shall have to stay silent on the matter. Im not allowed to guide you in any way, not by words, nor even by sign… Even if you come to hate me or threaten me, as sorry as I may feel about this, I shall not give in.  
— But you know the solution ? Zo asked.  
— Of course, he does ! Leo quipped. What in the verb “verify“ do you not understand ?  
— Hey ! Easy, you flap-dragon ass ! There’s no wrong in asking for confirmation, is there ? »

Giro smiled. What would the twentieth-century Girolamo make out of this delicate retort ? He had missed Zo’s rough manners.

For now, he was asked to retell some of his most remarkable moments in the underground passage.  
Of course, he knew what they were after on asking him to do so, but he would not fail his task : nothing he was about to tell them would put them on the trail.

***

They should have been at sea right now, heading for Corsica, where Mehmed’s strange visitor had said he would stay. However, Girolamo’s horse was hurting, and the Count could not trust the man he had hired it from with the animal’s welfare. So, he insisted on staying one more day, to do what was necessary to ease the mount's pain and give it more chance of healing.

He was inspecting the damaged foot where a sharp stone had been stuck in the hoof. He needed balm and was sure Leo had brought some along. One could usually accuse the artista of absent-mindedness, but never of lacking resources. Indeed, what he filled his bag with for even a short journey brought to one’s mind the image of a full and messy shop.

« Giro, would you hold my horse’s leg for me while I fetch some salve ? he asked his “twin“.  
— Only if you allow me to wear this shirt of yours for one more day, Giro smiled. Zita insists on washing all my shirts before we set sail.  
— Oh, I see ! Well, help yourself, the count giggled, standing up, still holding the horse’s leg. Here… I have already put some honey over the wound, so i don’t need him to rest it on sand, see… You’ve got hold of it ?  
— Yes, you can leave it to me. He rested the horse's leg on his knee and Girolamo left :  
— I won’t be long : Leo has a magic trick to find anything quickly among that mess of his ! »

The morning was delightful, a bit cooler than usual. You could smell the reviving scents of the sea, blended with the gorgeous perfume of wild thyme, travelling on a gentle wind.  
He heard the chime of Zita’s laugh and looked up. A bit farther down the ruins, she and Zo were hunting down lizards, careless and joyful like children.  
He smiled to himself and his heart swelled up on remembering the previous night. Zita had fulfilled his most ardent wish by confessing that in his absence she had realized her feelings for him ran deeper than before.  
She loved him ! And this…

He cried out in pain, feeling a brutal blow at his upper back, as if an iron bar was staked right above his shoulder blade.   
He could no longer breathe, struggling for air, tears blurring his sight while all things around him seemed to be slowly pulling a veil over themselves, like the beautiful ladies of Rome do when they hide their eyes.   
He only just saw a black silhouette approaching, perceived an indistinct call, thought of the bull he had stabbed... and fainted.

***

« Let me ! Unhand, me, Da Vinci ! »  
But Zo came to assist, grabbing Girolamo’s left arm while Leo was holding back his right hand, holding his lover back from stabbing Sophia’s heart here and now.  
He had kneeled upon her and she was staring in amazement, realizing how badly she had erred.  
Leo’s gaze was stone-hard and filled with hate and disgust. So was Zo’s.  
They would have to tie the count up to keep him from killing her, she thought. For that matter, they would probably find it hard not to do so themselves.

« Count, we must take care of Giro and we cannot if you don’t help, Leo pleaded. Please, do cool down, so we can release you and go to him !  
He felt Girolamo’s arm slacken :  
— Go ! he said, I’ll hold back… Zo, find me a rope. I shall not kill her, but I do not intend to let her walk free nevertheless. »

Zo concurred and, once the Count had thrown his blade among the stones ,went to fetch the rope.  
Giro had not yet come to. He was bleeding all over Zita’s blouse and skirt Zo noticed. And yes, he was dementedly furious at that bitch Sophia. He wished he had less scruples and, for the very first time in his life, a lot less principles.   
He wished her dead !

Leo was down on his knees at Giro’s side, trying to visualize how the knife had penetrated his neck, what damage it had caused inside.  
An unwanted thought assailed him, on and on : « It could have been Rio ! » The idea kept hitting the windows of his mind like a desperate bird looking for its way out. And yes, the blow had been aimed at Rio !  
Had she succeeded, he would have killed her on spot.  
Why on earth were they taking all the trouble to spare her ? Was she worth it ? No ! Was a human life worth it ? Yes, by all means. This was the heart of the matter : they were defending a principle, in no way attached to one individual, only inseparable from their conception of right and wrong.

Girolamo had no such elevated consideration on his mind at the moment. Instead, he was browsing his brains in search of a means of torture that would not harm the girl physically.   
And at last he found it.   
Not in any way the kind of retaliation he would enjoy, far from it, but a genuinely petty revenge nonetheless, one that would temporarily ease the urge to kill.

He bent over the girl unexpectedly and licked at her lips in the most lascivious manner he could think of.  
She struggled, wriggled, to make him loosen his grip, spitting then barking : « Away with you, you filthy bastard ! »   
But he tightened his hold instead and put more weigh still on her hips, his knees at an angle that must hurt her as hell.   
She yelled, insulting, threatening.

« I do not in the least intend to rape you, Sophia, he hissed, I would rather rape a heap of shit… No, I just want to give you a slight idea of the disgust you inspire me. »

It was wet, sticky, sickening as intimacy… it was demeaning and humiliating, utterly deprived of any caring intention.   
He wanted her to experience repulsion and shame, and she did ! The more so when she cried out and his tongue suddenly filled her mouth. He pressed it so hard under that hateful kiss that she couldn’t even bite.   
This was Satan, the satyr, winding its obscene nature around her soul.

She opened her eyes and met with the deep black gaze luring her into the realm of death. 

She did not faint, her mind just fell apart.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mariana in sight. Aboard Captain Orlandi's ship, sympathies build up.  
> Girolamo has an idea... more than one actually, though on quite different levels.
> 
> Inside the Mariana mithraeum, Solomon Ogbaï meditates, in search of a way to help Leo "see the light".  
> Al-Rahim has no such intentions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There really was a mithraeum in Mariana (now Lucciana)
> 
> http://www.tertullian.org/rpearse/mithras/display.php?page=supp_France_Lucciana_Mithraeum

Though Giro’s wound was mending unusually fast, Girolamo could only resolve to leave his cabin when Zita came in. Then only he would retreat and let them enjoy being together.  
He had been a caring nurse, reading to his wounded friend — he had long forgotten that the man lying there was none but his other self —, helping him eat and drink, plumping up his pillows… « You mother hen ! » Giro joked, once he felt better.  
Now that he could laugh without suffering any pain, the count started picking the most hilarious pages in the Decameron and, many a time, they could be heard from the deck breaking into laughter.

Girolamo was feeling terribly guilty about what had happened. The « I should have » on his mind were insistant and numerous. But not once did he feel the same way about Sophia, who had not yet uttered a word since he had last looked her in the eyes. He couldn’t care less, she had gone too far, much too far.  
« What the fuck did you do to her ? » Leo and Zo had already asked repeatedly, puzzled, yet not resentful.  
— I kissed her, the Count used to reply, the most lustfully I could bring myself to. »  
At this point, they were all beginning to doubt she would even ever be her normal self again, for her gaze was idle and empty and the very few things she did, she did without focus, as if she couldn’t remember how they were to be handled.

Captain Orlandi had been overjoyed to welcome them on board once again, declaring in an enthusiastic roar that he blessed such a happy coincidence.  
Two days had passed and the next morning, they would reach Mariana, their destination, to the North-East of Corsica. Tonight, he would once again have them at his table.  
However, he had noticed that they were all less talkative than on their first journey together and deduced that they had failed to find any satisfactory answer to they questions in Cartagene. Never mind ! He kept deeming them stimulating and called them “books on legs“.  
This time, though, he could not share much information about the Genoese island :  
« I seldom disembark there myself, he explained. The waters around there stink of lurking pirates and I like to stay aboard with two dozens of my men. Anyway, I’m afraid you won’t encounter many things or people of much interest over there, in Mariana, they are mostly a bunch of pig-headed fishermen and cultivators who enroll in the militia in the slack season, then eagerly go back to their boring occupation. » he concluded, rather dismissively while filling his pipe.

That night, after leaving the Captain’s deckhouse, Girolamo secretly noted down six words on a piece of paper ripped out of Leo’s sketchbook and went to show it Giro.  
The latter whispered, on an animated mode : « Man, you're knocking me down ! You’ve got half the solution already ? He patted his shoulder : you’re a quick-witted guy, I can tell you that much ! But now, don’t go and and ruin it by telling Leo anything about it, or they will find it out one way or another and will scupper the deal. If they spot any treachery, they will, at best, require yet another test from one of us, possibly a harder challenge… I’d say none of us would rejoice at this. »

***

In the early morning, the port of Mariana was in sight, though you had to squint through the fog to see the contours of its colossal citadel.  
Still silent from only just waking up, the five passengers were surveying the well-oiled skillful manoeuvre aboard. The men did not shout, hardly spoke as a matter of fact, each just devoting the utmost attention to his own routine.  
Captain Orlandi was wearing a smile of satisfaction upon his wide reddish face on watching this customary ballet, exactly the same way Leonardo used to smile at one of his own favorite painting or drawing.  
The passengers were leaning on the ship’s rail, except for Sophia, who had gone to sit behind them with her back against the superstructure. Giro and Zita were a bit farther, entirely absorbed in their plans for their common future.  
For the very first time in days, Sophia opened her mouth and started muttering to herself, apparently revising some points of geometry, for the words“quadrangular“, “circular“, “angle“ and “perpendicular“ seemed to compose the main part of her discourse.  
Leo, Zo and Girolamo exchanged a glance.  
« What will her father make of this when we meet him to close this episode ? Zo wondered. I hope he won’t have the nerve to seek revenge ?  
— He won’t, Leo said, he doesn't care, she’s just a pretext  
— Do you already have anything resembling an answer to the puzzle, either of you ?  
— I don’t, not yet, Leo grumbled.  
— I’m following some track, but I am not yet certain it is leading me somewhere, Girolamo prudently admitted.  
On which, Leo started gazing at him with…  
— Oh, shit, man ! Zo exclaimed in sheer amusement, could you at least make as if you were seeing him as an ordinary guy ?  
Leo was indeed looking at the Count with the kind of devotion and awe one usually devotes to deities.  
— Shut up, Zo ! he retorted, a bit uneasy, it’s just…  
— Yeah, I know… the good looks, the voice…. Fuck the lucky bastard ! You should consider wearing a mask and keeping your mouth shut, your highness, we cannot quite perform to the full of our brains when you’re around.  
Girolamo burst out laughing :  
— Could this be any kind of smutty invite, Zo ?  
Zo frowned :  
— No ! The last time, it made you lose your balance and break your skull like a nut, remember ? We are doomed to stay chaste around each-other, I’m afraid, he concluded, playfully.  
— Bad luck, if you ask me ! the Count winked.  
Leo cleared his throat :  
— Ahem… shall I leave you two to your romance ?  
— No, Artista ! In passing, this bit of fun reminds me I have not yet kissed you this morning with all the devotion you deserve ! Come and let me make amends.   
He took him by the shoulders and lead him down the steep stairs.  
Zo shook his head, grinning :  
— Bloody honey-mouthed bastard ! » he murmured.

***

Among the masters of Mithras, the one who had always felt the most sympathy towards Leonardo was Solomon Ogbaï. As he, immersed in his strange meditation in the mithraeum, was watching Captain’s Orlandi’s ship approach with no need to stare through the opening in the wall, he simultaneously let the images form in his thoughts : random scenes or sceneries meant to widen his perspective and to inspire him.  
What he wanted, was to help Leo discover the enigma without really cheating, without point-blank giving him any clue. He knew Girolamo Riario would soon discover the second half of the riddle, but would keep to his word and stay silent t about it.  
So… how disclose it without betraying the fraternity ?

A gust of warm wind swept through the mithraeum, putting all flames out and he knew Al-Rahim had arrived. He slowly let the images fade back to their own realm and applied himself to think of more material things, such as the warm breeze on his face, the scent of henna which seemed to be woven along the threads into the magician’s clothing, the distant swish of waves and mocking laughter of seagulls… Eventually, he allowed himself to open his eyes, the most direct contact with reality preferably always coming last.

« Brother Aslan ! Have you come to greet your recruit ? he asked, a faint smile on his lips.  
— And yours ! Al-Rahim reminded him… You never told me why you chose Girolamo Riario, by the way. I would certainly not have wagered on such a pious individual.  
— I saw the fervour sustaining the devotion… You can exchange one faith for another, not the passion a human being will put into it… Besides, they are the perfect match, aren’t they ? The Moon and the Sun…  
— You had a keen intuition that day, I’ll give you that. I hope you do not intend to push his luck ? His discovering part of the enigma so soon seems a bit… suspicious.  
— Rest assured I do not nourish more loyalty to Riario than yourself to Da Vinci… Fishermen do not develop sympathy for the fish they capture, do they ? And all things considered, that’s what we are : men fishing valuable followers, feeding our God the best nourishment we can come across.  
— This sounds rather prosaic, my friend ! Al-Rahim chuckled.  
— I concur… I abandoned my hopes to find any poetry in our routine a long time ago : it’s a harsh, demanding, merciless task to enroll those unsuspicious creatures. Or have you forgotten that much ?  
— I have. I feel no remorse whatsoever when I compare their sacrifice to the higher goal they will be invested with.  
— Happy man ! I wish I could reach that stage of detachment. He got up to face Al-Rahim : Will our two brothers be joining us ?  
— No… They are both too busy elsewhere... So, will you come in touch with Riario, while I talk to Leonardo ?  
In an impulse, Solomon Ogbai suddenly suggested :  
— Why not do it the other way around for a change ? After all, I suppose you’ve got some issue to clear up with Count Riario ?  
Al-Rahim glared at him :  
— You mean about my daughter, I suppose.  
— Indeed ! Aren’t you somewhat upset about what he did to her ?  
The magician turned around, making his long red kaftan fly :  
— I am far more upset about what she did to Girolamo Riario, I assure you ! Her intentions were to put an end to one of our recruits’ life : THAT is unforgivable ! I could almost wish they failed to solve the puzzle, just for the pleasure of torturing her myself…  
Solomon hid a smile by pretending to look at the approaching ship :  
— So, you choose to talk to Da Vinci ?  
— No… We can do it your way if you want some change. I do not mind. »  
His companion frowned a bit : it was not often you could bring around Aslan to your own plans.  
Maybe his rage had made him lose his focus ?


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feeling yourself change doesn't always come easy, especially when humanism is your credo and you realize you are not always up to its principles...

« You know I love you, Moonlight, but I cannot do that. That’s not me, see. You would love me less if I did that.

— Give it a try, Artista, just this one time. Do it for me ! »

There was something strange and slightly frightening in Girolamo’s voice. Leo could not tell what exactly, but it sounded a bit defying and menacing, a touch of perfidy beneath the softness.

On the other hand, the artist and engineer in him could not but wonder at the formal beauty of the object the count had thrust into his hand. It was spreading shivers through his whole body, a feeling of might he had never experienced, so strong it equalled sexual ecstasy. The black weapon felt cold and heavy, brutal, ruthless, powerful. The kind of device to make you a king, or even a God.

This was outright scary.

Yet, he pulled the trigger, and suddenly, blood was flowing out of Sophia’s chest, soon wetting her shirt through and through.

Leo startled and awoke, drenched in sweat, whimpering pathetic brief cries…

« Hush, Artista, it was just a nightmare, it’s not real ! Rio soothed him, taking him in his arms.

But Leo backed away, got up promptly :

— What the hell are you doing to me ?

Girolamo was now staring at him in amazement :

— Wh… What are you talking about ?

— Ever since we got you out of the Sant’Angelo, you’re throwing a light on me that changes me profoundly : I have become obedient and exceedingly trustful... Mind you, I don’t grudge you this influence, it’s just that… I cannot figure it out. To tell you the truth, it shakes me.

— Leo, I’m not controlling you in any way ! the Count pleaded. Do you sincerely think I am manipulating you ?

— Hell no ! I know this has nothing to do with a … scheme, its… it’s not voluntary, I’m well aware of this, but…

— So; it was all in your nightmare. Tell me about it. And, please, do come back near me, or I’ll deduce that you really are angry with me.

Leo gave in and went back to bed. He kissed his lips :

— I’m sorry, Moonlight, it’s just that it puzzles me out of my wits to realize how much you are changing me.

— For God’s sake, Artista, you’ve been changing me for years ! And here, I’ve got some good news for you : it’s called love ! Girolamo remarked with one of his trademark covert smiles.

Leo was calming down and smiled back :

— Yes, I know…

He told the scene that had fired it all and concluded :

— See, I don’t know what it is, that weapon, I cannot even dream of explaining how it works ; all I know, it’s that it was a terrifying device, and that I nevertheless felt powerful and most unduly elated at the experience !

— That doesn’t make you a monster, my love, only a mere human being, with the weaknesses this implies. You’ve had that feeling before, remember ?

— Yes, in Otranto, when I saw how effective my war-machines could be. You helped me realize and confess this, when you were tied up to that pillar in my studio.

— And I suggest you embrace it, once and for all, for it is part of you, and you would only vainly try to erase it. Tame it, but do not ever try cheating it out of your consciousness, or you would only be fooling yourself.

— You’re speaking from experience, aren’t you ?

Leo’s breath was now a bit shallow, and realizing this only strengthened his feeling dependency : he would never be the good old carefree, unattached Leo again, but he didn’t mind… as long as he was allowed to drown amongst the silken shadows and dancing sparkles in Rio’s eyes.

Forever be it !

— Yes, I know how you’re feeling right now, Girolamo whispered, lost in the fascinating emerald gaze, drawing Leo’s face with his fingertips… As for changing each-other, yes, we do, all along the way, though we never alter the core. Listen, I see us as tree trunks ; the heart-wood remains untouched, but the circumstances and people we meet add yet another layer, year after year. They do not remove and replace us with a completely different version of ourselves, they just shape us differently… And now, I solemnly give you full consent to use me as a material, my Leo, because I trust your intentions and your artistry... He kissed Leo's eyelids... Not just everyone can brag about such a claim to fame ! Thus, here I am, waiting for those expert hands of yours to model me in your naughty-maestro manner… I beg you, make me, now, Artista !

Leo didn't have to be asked twice, he wound his arms and legs around his lover's arousing body and reworded :

— I can as well do that with that expert tongue of mine ! »

***

Zoroaster could hear the birds outside his window give their first fucking “everybody-wake-up-now“ serenade. He had the feeling he had not closed an eye yet. Sophia had been revisiting her quadrangles, parallels and triangles all night long.

Was there a chance it had anything to do with Al-Rahim’s goddam riddle ?

He jumped out of bed, scratched his head and stepped to the girl’s bed, to stand there and glare at her : « Sophia, you must stop this now… Unless you tell me it’s an important clue or some bloody coded language, in which case, I swear that you have my ear !

—… _amidst the parallels running through the scheme_ …

She was sitting with her palms on her knees, looked up at him blankly and just went on with her maddening litany.

— Are you trying to deliver a message of some sort ?

—… _the circular center in the quadrangle_ … »

He waved his right hand in rejection and turned his back at her, to leave the room and check for something to eat downstairs.

The owner of the Seagull Inn had seemed as a sensible, amiable man, the kind of fellow to realize that it was commendable to take good care of customers.

At this early hour, the main room of the inn was almost empty. Zo walked to the center to take a better look around the place. Hands on his hips, straight as an “I“ in “intense“, “firm“ and “thick-skinned“, he first gazed at a shabby heap of clothes that had been snoring at the nearest table to the kitchen area since last night. Then the red-haired maid appeared, reminding him of good-old-days Vanessa, the friendly and faithful one. She smiled at him discretely and started cleaning up the tables. Turning around a bit, he watched the tall black man sat near the door, who was sipping some hot beverage. He was staring fixedly into his tankard, absorbed, as if he was supposed to find something precious in it, and had only looked up once, when Zo had come down the stairs

The owner eventually showed up too, wiping his hands with a piece of cloth, the colour of which no one could have guessed. The man looked at Zo and spoke the magic words : « Breakfast time, signor ?

Zo gave him his most cheerful smile :

— Actually, yes ! I’m starving !

— We’ve got salami or cheese with bread and whichever drink you’ll fancy, except for kah’wah… some may like it, but this, here, is a civilized country, and we don’t have any !

He had cast a sidelong glances the tall man near the door, and Zo understood that, around here, some skin colours were less embarrassing than others.

— Oh, I tried the beverage myself not so long ago, he said proudly. I did not dislike it, you know… but beer will be just fine for me.

— Good ! Are your friends not up yet ?

— I’m afraid they had plenty to... discuss last night. They must have gone to sleep much too late, so this must just be dawn to them ! » he mocked, failing to add that he himself used to get up around midday when nothing important called him.

He then went to sit at the table near the black man’s, very much intrigued and very eager to start a conversation, but, for once, not really knowing how to tackle the situation.

There were laughters and merry outcries coming from around the fireplace, where two young women and a boy were already rather busy with pots, spoons and knives. The boy then produced a huge plucked chicken, which he held by its legs and started to swing in a comic way, which caused the girls to laugh out and shed tears.

The owner scolded them without anger and, on his way to Zo’s table with a tray, tried to awaken the snoring man, in vain.

« I hope you’ll savour our local salami, signor. My cousin makes it, it’s considered as a real treat around here ! The innkeeper announced, on putting down Zo’s plate before him.

— Man, just stop it right now ! The sole anticipation makes me drool ! » Zo pleaded, rubbing his hands in sheer expectation.

But the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs delayed the feast. The two Riarios were first, obviously in a very good mood, as Giro was holding a piece of paper, apparently congratulating his other self. When they reached the ground floor, however, Girolamo froze, looking attentively at the stranger. The latter looked up and smiled, displaying a row of uneven very white teeth :

« Which one of you is the one I already know ? he inquired joyfully.

Leo appeared from behind the twins :

— I thought a man like you would know ! he teased, clearly happy to meet him again.

— Da Vinci ! Good to see you, brother ! Well… I may have some abilities, but omniscience is not included, the man laughed, getting up to go and pat Leo’s shoulder.

— I am the one you know, Girolamo acknowledged.

— And are you the man in black we were supposed to meet here ? Leo asked. An old man near Cartagene told us he had once opened his door to a stranger who was being chased down by a pack of enemies…

— So, you’ve met Mehmed !

— Zita and I have, Leo confirmed, pointing at the young girl. She happens to be a compatriot of yours, you know !

— And I know her very well, Solomon Ogbaï smiled, a bit mysteriously.

— Hey, you bastards, are you going to let me in, or am I too ordinary for your excellencies ? Zo then protested in a loud voice.

— Yes, let’s sit and introduce ourselves, Girolamo suggested, a hand on Leo’s back.

Solomon looked more closely at him, reading his face :

— You’ve changed, Count Riario !

Leo and Rio exchanged a glance :

— I have, haven’t I ? the Count confirmed, smiling at the man who had once given him the precious key to the Vault of Heaven.

— But your path was a terribly arduous one, I was not sure you would ever get out of hell, to tell you the truth.

— You managed to put the right person on my way, there’s the key. »

Soloman Ogbaï dragged his table up against Zo’s and they all sat down. The owner came to inquire about their orders and, if at first talking about unimportant matters as they were eating, they afterwards approached the tricky subject of Sophia’s fate.

From this seemingly inconsequential interview, Solomon understood that Captain Riario had achieved the complete solution to the riddle, while Leo had solved one half of it…

« Clever boys ! » he thought, with some gratification.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion... The riddle is solved, meeting with the four Masters of Mithras.

After the meal, Solomon chose to show them a place he considered as his “secret palace“.

It was a grotto, of which only few people knew, for its entrance was hidden among bushes, at thee feet of a 300-year-old chestnut tree. From there, you walked down a very steep path, though a narrow natural corridor of granit.You could tell the tall man was at home here : close after the mouth of the cave, he picked three torches from a kind of chest he had built of combined stones.

He had been born here, he explained, shortly after his parents had come to Mariana from Abyssinia. He new the place inside out, had lost his way many a time on the mountain and discovered wonderful hidden places.As he grew older, he developed a passion for cartography, starting here, of course, then widening his field of practice.When the Sons of Mithras had recruited him for his talent, he was twenty-one, and from then on, he was able to travel the worlds — know or unknown ones.

Leo and his friends soon got the impression that the grotto had no end, which Solomon confirmed : despite the numerous occasions he had explored it, he had not yet found its limits. There always seemed to be another cave on the right he had not seen, or a path, on the left he had not yet walked… He was inclined to believe it went as far as the middle of the Monte Astu !

After some time, Sophia’s geometrical litany was running wild…

« … _the circular center in the quadrangle amidst the parallels running through the scheme… The triangle upon the circle between the cardinal points …_

— Your kiss seems to have deranged her senses for good, Captain ! Solomon said, shaking his head in a mimic of pretended affliction.

— And would you believe… I do not regret it a bit !

— Yes... There always was a merciless sharpness to you… the man said, presenting each in turn with a small box of black sweets.That’s how I came to consider recommending Zita to your father in the first place. You needed someone like her to smooth the rough edges of your life among men.

— Oh ! Were you the one to buy me for Pope Sixtus ? Zita asked.

— I bought you for Girolamo, sweet girl, not for that monster ! But, of course, I should have informed about his character. Someone could have warned me he would not stick to his promise to leave you alone… I am truly sorry for that, my dear. Had I suspected that a man of the cloth would stoop to such cruelty, I would never have done so, not even for the sake of my protégé.

Zita smiled at her master, while reassuring Solomon Ogbaï :

— If I was of any help to him, I will not begrudge you your choice.

— You know you were a great comfort, Zita, the count confirmed… You were the first and only one to see anything good in me before I met Leo… I did not know Solomon had played a part in this, but now that I know, I correct what I told him this morning : he put not one, but two right persons on my path ! »

They had been walking for hours, chatting — with Sophia’s monotonous chant in the background, when they reached a rigorously quadrangular cave Solomon himself had never seen.They looked at it with open mouth for a minute, knowing that nature very seldom generates such strictly geometrical spaces and straight surfaces.

Someone must have built this !

As Sophia was mute, Giro looked back at her and saw her expression. Shewas fixing the ground at the center of the cave, in a transe, eyes widened, with something resembling a smile on her lips. He walked towards thespot and let out a trembling “Jesus Christ ! What the hellis this ?“, which naturally drew the others to the center as well.

It was all there, in the form of narrow gutters of luminescent green liquid : _the circular center in the quadrangle amidst the parallels running through the scheme… The triangle upon the circle between the cardinal points …_ And right in the middle of the circle, two associated runesagain, “mannaz“, and “tiwaz“, while at the top of the triangle stood the single“daggaz“, with its butterfly shape…

« Man and warrior, Girò commented, and daggaz for revelation, enlightenment… Jeez ! We’re on a track here, or else I don’t know which end is up. »

Fortunately, nobody was looking at him at the moment, for Solomon was deeply confused. He had never seen anything like this in his “secret palace“. But would his three fellow-masters believe him, or would they suspect a treachery of some sort, a trick to put Leo on the track ? He was watching in a kind of stupor as Leonardo walked fearlessly to the daggaz hieroglyph, stood there… and froze, transfixed, as if struck by some spell.

Zo made a move to run to him, but Giròlamo barred the way with his strong arm : « Let it happen, I feel it’s part of the process. No harm will come to him.

— How would you know ? Zo snarled.

— I know. »

And indeed, after two minutes that seemed to his friends to last forever, Leo’s expression relaxed. Soon, his eyes focused on the group in front of him and a smile, at first timid, widened, to the point of expressing pure bliss : « I know ! He cried out, throwing his arms up in the air, then holding his head with both hands and whirling in joy. I know ! How is this even possible ?

Girò rejoiced :

— Then, if you are right, Leo, your quest is over ! Congratulations, friends, you’ve solved it in no time ! Here, he said, holding out a piece of paper and a pencil to Leo, who was back among them, write it down, so I can confirm it. His hand was trembling in excitement, he was sharing Leonardo’s triumphant euphoria.

The artist wrote down the six crucial words. Girò read them and exclaimed :

— Yes ! That was the right guess ! How does it feel, Maestro ? He murmured withan enigmatic smile.

— Astounding, my friend, really incredible ! »

***

In honour of such a remarkable occasion, the four masters of Mithras were present. They had been waiting for Leo and the two Riarios just for some minutes, for the three of them were eager to be reassured about their conclusions.

The lights were burning in the usually dark Mithraeum and the gentle ambiant air smelled of herbs and Aslan Al-Rahim’s henna. They were seated, legs crossed, with their backs to the statue of Mithras and its two keys, the one Leo had so often sketched and drawn back in the times when he could think of little else. It now seemed ages ago. He had once sworn never to care about it all again, but here he was nevertheless, entering the Mithraeum, right behind Girò, his “Moonlight love“ on his heels. 

Life could be so incredibly weird !

Being the one Master to know them all, Solomon Ogbaï introduced the three younger men to his fellow-leaders…

« My dear boy, Cosimo de’Medici quipped, smiling at Girò, what have you got yourself into !

Girò bowed and smiled back :

— This was no ordinary experience, I’m willing to admit it, Cosimo, but I do not regret it at all. »

« So, Leonardo, I thought you were finished with us ! Al-Rahim said ironically.

— Such was indeed my intention… But when the life of a loved one is at stakes, who would refuse to embark on the ship ?

Avraham Ben Yosef was half-frowning, half-smiling :

— I am sure you do not speak of your sister’s life, am I correct ?

— Indeed, I don’t, I must confess. »

« Giròlamo, were you expecting such a revolution in your life when I promised you one, the day we met for the first time ? Solomon inquired.

— Never ! Who could hope for such an adventure ? It has reached far, far beyond what I had imagined.

— Were you ever really aware of the impact you would have ?

— No. I always considered myself either as an obstacle to Leo’s discovery of the Book of Leaves… at best as a zealous but lame contributor.

— It is not often easy to stand comparison with a genius, is it .

— Not easy at all… except when the genius in question possesses enough generosity to make you feel you count… from there, the sky is the limit. »

And then, they were invited to sit in front of the masters to convey their conclusions.

Girò explained :

« During my Cartagine test, the last day in fact, I met with the twenty-first-century Giròlamo Riario. I can tell you it was no ordinary encounter, because the man’s philosophy has been shaped by five centuries of cultural evolution. However, what he told me about Leo gave me another hint about a conjecture I had already imagined, thanks to the runes in the book we had purchased : the maestro was a crucial element in the search for the book of leaves. In fact, he will still be revered in the twenty-first century, even though many of his inventions will disappear in-between, he is considered as a visionary.

My conviction was reinforced one night, when Giròlamo came to my cabin on the boat to Mariana, with the same conclusion, written down on a piece of paper… He handed out the paper to Cosimo, who passed it forward to his peers. Aslan read it aloud :

— Leonardo is the Book of Leaves !

— Of course, you could expect such a conclusion from a man who is sincerely in love and admiring, but it encouraged me to think it over in depth. My conclusion was that, no, Leonardo doesn’t have the answers to all the puzzles you can think of, no, he cannot solve all scientific problems, but yes, a hundred times yes, he has the mindset that will open all doors that are still closed. In this respect, he really is the Book of Leaves, because you may guess an important discovery is hiding behinda door, but if you don’t have in you the irrepressible urge, the passionate need to open that door, it just serves nothing : hidden the discovery will remain… Then — he held out two other pieces of paper — almost simultaneously, the Count and Leo came to me with other papers, reading respectively : “I am the one shining a revealing light on Leo“ and “Giròlamo is the light that will reveal where the book of leaves is“. From there, I knew the enlightenment would come soon. The only push we needed for Leo to dare see himself as the precious object he had been searching for for so long was given yesterday by the surreal place we found in the grotto… Girò passed the last paper… Everything had been pointing in that direction, but, either for some kind of stubborn love of materiality or for lack of insight, we all thought of the Book of Leaves as being a real manuscript, an object, not a concept or the person holding the keys to all knowledge : curiosity, daring and determination… in brief, the devotion every progress demands. And yet, here we were, all along, living at his side. »

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My next post will be an epilogue, probably a shorter chapter then...


	30. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, goodbye times have come... But of course some adventure is waiting just around the corner.

Zo was having ahard time recovering from the surprise. Leo, the Book of Leaves ? That fucking book they had been looking for in bloody Vespuccia ? It took him more than an hour to accept the Riarios and Leo were not trying to fool him, he would need more still to understand why, in the first place, they had called a man The Book of Leaves !

To prevent his collapsing under so much novelty, he chose to reject the concept of time-travel for later. Because, yes, as if being a genius was not enough, it appeared that Leo, Girò and even that goddam Count were now able to “navigate the river of time“, to quote them. Just as Cosimo de’Medici, the Jew, the Cartographer and bloody Al-Rahim !

He stepped apart to think it over a bit farther down the beach, where they had all assembled, with very little regard for his own disarray. But of course, he was ready to admit that these were particularly hard times for them. He saw the four of them hang down their heads, pace gingerly up and down, freeze, or fidget with a scarf, a pencil or the string of their breeches …

This was the sorrowful time of goodbyes.

He watched them hug, make quick, idle gestures, and then Girò and Zita stepped slowly back, waving, because there could be no more touching. Finally, they turned around briskly and hurried away, as though they were fleeing. 

Zo swallowed, in an attempt to clear his aching throat. He saw Giròlamo squat down, hurting, and Leo go to sit on his heels as well, to comfort him. There had grown a strong tie between those two versions of Riario, Zo realized; as for Zita… well, who would not feel miserable for having to her go ?

For the first time in a long while, Zo felt a tear roll down his cheek.

***

« Are you fit and ready for a jump forward in time ? Aslan Al-Rahim inquired with a little smile.

— There’s no other choice, is there ? Giròlamo whispered bitterly.

— I’m afraid there isn’t, Count Riario. But I have some news that, if I am not mistaken, will encourage you to go back to 1482 Rome : your cousin and friend Giovanni della Rovere is in danger. The Pope has heard of the part he played in your escape and has locked him up… There might be a hidden intention to lure and catch you, of course, but by what I have been learning about you, this is not the kind of menace to deter you…

— Oh ! But then, we must go, Rio ! Leo exclaimed.

Giròlamo smiled and looked him tenderly in the eyes :

— Yes, Artista. This cannot be tolerated, we will not let it happen ! Let’s fetch Zo and your sister…

— I took the liberty to enroll her at the San Cosimato Monastery, belonging to the order of the Recluse di san Damiano… They won’t even try to evangelize her, you can rely on my word, Al-Rahim said, addressing Leo.

He frowned :

— I wouldn’t even have blamed you had you enrolled her in some satanist sect, to be honest. After what she did to Girò, trying to kill Giròlamo, I don’t care at all ! »

Minutes later, they were on the Palatine Hill in Rome, 1482, once again amongst ruins…

« It seems we’re bound to roam ancient Rome again ! Zo said, looking all around him… The whole bloody journey has been like a fuckingno-booze purgatory if you ask me ! »

They looked at each-other and burst out laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this ! I hope it brought back some good memories ;-)


End file.
